


The Heir

by klaineanummel



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Major Character Death is NOT klaine, Murder, Talk of Suicide (no actual suicide)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaineanummel/pseuds/klaineanummel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel is not having a good week. He just got thrown out of his half-sister's wedding, his dad cut him off, and he's being forced to work a real job for the first time in his life. He's pretty sure that things can't possibly get any worse.</p><p>That is, of course, until his step-brother Finn (and the only family member he genuinely likes) is found dead at the base of the Hummel Enterprises building.</p><p>Although his death is originally ruled a suicide it is soon discovered that it was anything but. Soon, Kurt finds himself thrown headfirst into a dangerous murder investigation; one which somebody does not want him to get out of alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> General warnings: Murder, talk of suicide, guns, underage, a scene that can be seen as dub-con (will warn specifically for the chapter it's in), infidelity, underage drinking, slut-shaming, ableist language. For more specific (but also slightly spoilery) warnings, please refer to [ this post](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com/post/132240306705/the-heir), which also contains a Hummel family tree. Please note that there are a very large amount of pairings present in this fic. If anybody wants to read this fic but is worried about a specific pairing they may find, please message me [ at my tumblr ](http://klaineanummel.tumblr.com) (off anon so I can answer privately please). 
> 
> A very big thanks to scout451 and mailroomorder for making this fic legible. Another big thanks to heartstringsduet for the wonderful art for this fic. Finally, thank you to the Kurt Big Bang team for giving me the opportunity to actually finish this fic. Thanks to everybody who made this fic possible.
> 
> Based on _The Heiresses_ by Sarah Shepard
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and please head the warnings!

**August 17, 2008**

The casket sitting at the front of the church is far less flashy than Kurt expected it to be. Although, he supposes that a man who died in the closet can't have been given many options in regard to its design. Based on the entirely plain black dress that his widow Terri is sporting he wouldn't be surprised if she had chosen the coffin.

Adam Crawford wasn't yet fifty, but age never seems to matter to The Curse. If you believe in such things as The Curse of course, which Kurt absolutely doesn't. Adam wasn't even a Hummel, just a high up associate. Granted, he was very high up, but still, he never reached the same level of status as the Hummels. It's not like The Curse is transferable to high level employees or close friends. Although, if it is, he can't say he's surprised that Adam would be the one it would hit. Right hand man to the CEO of Hummel Enterprise, best friends with a Hummel.

Slept with a Hummel.

It's cold in the church, and Kurt wraps his arms around his flimsy shirt. He should have taken his dad's advice and worn a jacket but, well, he's not exactly interested in listening to anything his dad has to say these days. Still, it's quite chilly.

Some preacher is droning on and on in the front of the room, but Kurt is barely paying attention to what is being said. Truth be told, he barely knew the man, as he knows is the case for about half the people in attendance. He was once close friends with Adam's only daughter, Kitty, but that was _before_.

A large hand comes up to his and he turns to see his step-brother Finn smiling at him as he presses a small piece of paper into his hand. Kurt turns his hand over and discreetly unfolds the paper.

_You should talk to her_.

Kurt would scoff, but they're at a funeral and he doesn't want to cause a scene. He glances at Finn and shakes his head. Kitty's father dying changes nothing. At least not where their friendship is concerned.

Finn sighs but says nothing, though Kurt knows he'll probably get a talking to after. He sits up straight and shuffles closer to Kurt's half-sister Santana, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Santana leans her head on his shoulder, but keeps her arm firmly wrapped around her girlfriend Marley's shoulder. Marley is sniffling into a handkerchief and Finn reaches his hand out far enough to run his hand over her back. Pathetic. Kurt knows for a fact that Marley and Adam never once crossed paths. The preacher's speech can't be _that_ moving.

He shifts in his seat. It's not exactly a warm summer day; it feels more like late spring than anything. There's no need for it to be this damn cold.

Glancing over to the Crawfords once more, he catches Kitty's eye and quickly looks away. The last thing he needs is her trying guilt him with her grief. He doesn't have time for that. He's too busy mourning over his dad's best friend. Or whatever.

Actually, he's very much itching to get out of this stupid church. It's cold, he hates almost everybody sitting around him, and he's still not entirely sure that he won't get blasted by a lightning bolt for simply being in a church.

Something claws at his gut, trying to remind him of the real reason he doesn't want to be here, but he shoves that something aside. He wonders if Tina will be able to get together tonight. Maybe he can call Sebastian up, see if they can make things work. After all, Sebastian can't hold what Kurt did against him. Sebastian started it; Kurt was just retaliating.

Either way, he desperately needs to get drunk tonight. Get this entire affair off his mind.

The funeral lasts another twenty grueling minutes, with Adam's widow getting up and blubbering to everyone for at least ten of those minutes about how wonderful a man Adam was, how kind and loving. "It's too soon," she wails, Kitty's arm wrapped tightly around her in a disgusting display of comfort. "He was taken from us too soon."

Kurt rolls his eyes. He can't believe he's being forced to witness this pathetic show. Everyone who knew Adam even a little knows that he could have died twenty years ago and it still wouldn't have been too soon. It's an admirable little display of grief, but Kurt sees right through it. There's no way that Terri didn't know about Adam and his long string of lovers. Of male lovers. Kurt actually thinks that eighty percent of the last two rows are men that Adam's slept with.

What a joke. Terri Crawford talking about what a loving husband Adam was while he knows for sure there's at least one man in the room that Adam cheated on her with. He hates that his dad dragged him to this.

He's one of the first to stand when the funeral ends, the preacher asking those who had been asked to watch the burial to stay behind. Kurt counts his blessings that that's not him. It's bad enough he's had to sit through an hour of people crying over the death of an asshole, the last thing he needs is to be around while they lower him into the ground. He's seen enough fake tears to last him a lifetime, thanks. He doesn't need to see more.

An arm loops through his and he looks up to see his cousin, Rachel, giving him a hard stare. He smiles sardonically in return and starts to lead her out of the church. He can still hear Marley sniffling obnoxiously right behind them, and Finn and Santana's wasted attempts at comforting her. It's driving Kurt absolutely up the wall.

His only other cousin, Sam, is waiting for them at the entrance to the church. He offers Rachel another arm and quietly whispers to them, "We need to exit together. Show that we're there for each other in our grief."

"What grief?" Kurt mutters, receiving an elbow to the side from Finn for his trouble. He sighs and lets Rachel cling to him and bury her face in his arm as they exit the church, Santana right behind them with that sobbing girlfriend of hers.

Thousands of lights flash before them as they leave, and Kurt remembers why he wanted to wear the sheer black shirt he chose. He's going to look damn good on whatever magazine cover these end up on.

A couple of reporters try and ask them questions - "How well did you know Mr. Crawford?" "Will one of you be taking Mr. Crawford's place at Hummel Enterprise?" "Do you think this has anything to do with The Curse?" - but they've all been instructed not to speak to the media. Instead of responding, the six of them simply walk past, making sure to look as grief stricken as they can.

There's a limousine waiting for them at the curb, Finn's fiancée Quinn standing next to the door waiting for them. They all crowd inside, maintaining the mournful charade until Quinn shuts the door behind him as he settles in next to Finn. Once the door is closed, everyone sags. Rachel takes out her phone, Santana stops rubbing Marley's back, and Sam very calmly instructs the driver to take them to their grandparents’ house. The only one still upset is Marley, who just won't stop crying.

"Will you make her stop?" Kurt snaps at Santana. "She didn't even know the guy."

Marley's jaw drops, and Santana curls her arm around her shoulder defensively. "Watch it," she warns. Kurt rolls his eyes and follows Rachel's example in taking out his phone. He has five texts, three from Tina, one from Sebastian, and one from an unknown number.

_Still at that funeral? - Tina_

_Guessing silence = yes - Tina_

_Text me when you're done. Bought tequila - Tina_

_I can't believe you. Filthy fucking slut. Stay out of my life - Sebastian_

_Hey. This is Blaine. I got your number off Sebastian. I may or may not have told him about us? Sorry. Anyway, I was thinking. I know you said it was a one time thing, but it doesn't have to be. We could get dinner sometime. Not now, of course, since that guy in your family just died, but maybe next week? I know a really great Greek place. Let me know, okay?_

Kurt sighs, then texts Tina back that he'll be at her house in an hour. After, he replies to Sebastian's text by reminding him exactly whose sluttish behavior caused them to break up (spoiler alert: it wasn't Kurt's), and then, after a couple seconds of deliberation, deletes the last text.

"I thought it was a lovely ceremony," Finn is telling Marley, rubbing her arm. Rachel is tapping away on her phone, Sam has his own phone up to his ear and Santana looks like she's already tired of consoling her girlfriend. Kurt snorts, grinning when Santana glares at him.

It's just a joke. He doesn't understand how none of them realize what a giant joke this entire spectacle is.

He texts his dad. _Anybody ask?_

His dad replies with a simple _No_. Kurt deletes the texts immediately.

He wonders how he'll look in the paparazzi pictures.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**May 28, 2015**

The boutique where Santana is getting her wedding dress made is so lavish that it's even a bit much for Kurt. Which really says a lot because he spent most of the previous night drinking $400 champagne.

He's late, too, which means that Santana is probably pissed beyond belief, which means there's a ninety five percent chance that he's actually out of the wedding this time. Maybe. He knows Santana's been waiting for an opportunity to kick him out for a while. Hell, if it weren't for Finn he's pretty sure he wouldn't even be invited, much less a part of the wedding party.

Sam is the first person he sees, mumbling business jargon into his phone at the entrance of the boutique. Kurt waves at him, but if Sam sees him he doesn't react. He's wearing a nice, simple white tuxedo. Hopefully that's the one Santana picked out for all of the groomsmen, because Kurt knows he would look absolutely amazing in that.

Rachel is next, thumbs gliding seamlessly over her phone screen, nose scrunched up in either concentration or irritation, he isn't entirely sure. She's wearing a dark pink dress, one he knows will contrast well with the tux Sam is wearing, and it gives Kurt hope that this wedding won’t be a total disaster.

"There you are," Finn greets him. He's wearing the same white tux that Sam is. "We've been waiting for you."

"Yeah, sorry," Kurt says, taking his sunglasses and placing them on top of his mussed up hair. He wishes he'd had more time this morning, but after seeing the time on his phone he'd basically shoved himself into the first pair of jeans and shirt he'd seen, thrown on a pair of sunglasses, grabbed his keys and his wallet, and climbed into the first cab he'd been able to catch. "I forgot to set my alarm."

"I'm sure," Finn murmurs. "Santana's pissed."

Kurt snorts. "When isn't she?"

Finn gives him a warning look. "Be nice, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll try."

He smiles tightly, then walks over to where Rachel is sitting and picks up a magazine. Kurt rolls his eyes when he sees his mother on the cover hanging off the arm of that new actor boyfriend of hers, the headline screaming _Elizabeth Lopez steps out with handsome new beau_! Kurt's pretty sure the guy is as young as he is, but whatever. He's been trying not to judge.

It must be driving Rachel crazy to see his mom on the cover of a magazine. The thought almost makes him smile.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up."

Kurt turns to see his half-sister standing on a little stage, an older woman working at taking in the waist of her dress. Kurt extends his arms and grins.

"Yeah, alarm malfunction. Is my suit ready?"

"It was ready an hour ago, when you were supposed to be here," Santana grits out. “Are you even taking this seriously?"

"Of course. I'll just go try it on, okay?"

Santana shakes her head and straightens up further for the seamstress. Kurt suppresses a sigh and makes his way back into the changing room.

There's a suit hanging in front of the mirror, and Kurt stares for a moment, sure that his eyes are deceiving him. He blinks, blinks again. It's still there.

He grabs it and marches back out into the main room. "What the fuck is this?"

Santana looks entirely nonplussed. "Your groomsman suit, obviously."

"Why is mine different?" he gestures to the white tux that Finn is wearing. Santana shrugs, causing the seamstress to fuss.

"I thought you'd look good in it."

"Is this a fucking joke?"

"Why would I joke about something like this?"

Kurt snorts. "This is to get back at me for coming late, isn't it? I told you, my alarm didn't go off, I would have been here on time if-"

"If you hadn't been partying with Tina and Elliott all night, yeah, I know," Santana says, still almost entirely emotionless. "I saw the pictures on the site today. You looked really drunk."

"So what, this is my punishment? I went out, got drunk, and now you're making me wear a neon green suit to your wedding?"

"Of course not," Santana says, eyes widening as if speaking to a child. "You were always going to wear the neon green suit."

"What-"

"Well, I mean, all of the men standing with Marley are wearing the green. You'd be the odd one out if you didn't wear it."

Kurt's jaw drops. "Are you- Is this-"

"What was that?" Santana asks, tone even more condescending than before. "I didn't quite hear you."

"Alright, that's enough," Finn announces, stepping in between Kurt and Santana. "Kurt, your actual suit is in the second dressing room, not the first. Santana, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Kurt huffs and storms back to the dressing rooms, throwing the disgusting excuse of a suit into the first dressing room and then sighing in relief when he sees the white one in the second. He slips the suit on. It's a bit loose.

"-not even taking it seriously," he hears Santana shouting from the main room. Kurt pauses, hand inches away from the curtain he was going to pull aside, waiting.

"He's just being Kurt, you know how he is."

"Yeah, I do Finn, and if he's going to be like that then I don't think I want him in my wedding."

Finn sighs so loud that Kurt hears it. "San, he's your brother."

" _Half_ -brother, as he never fails to remind me."

"He's just going through a phase."

"A five year phase?"

"San-"

" _No_. This is my wedding, Finn. It's my _wedding_. What if he decides to pull this on the day of? What, are we just supposed to postpone the whole thing until he deigns to grace us all with his presence? He doesn't even want to do this, he's only doing this because you told him to."

"That's not true," Kurt finds himself saying. Nobody replies, so he shoves the curtain aside and storms into the room. The seamstress instantly hurries to his side, pinching at the fabric, but Kurt shoos her off. “Of course I want to do this. It's your wedding."

"It doesn't fucking seem like it, Kurt," Santana hisses. "You've been late to every single appointment I've asked you to accompany me to, you pawned off planning my bachelorette party to Sam - who you already know is working himself to the bone - _and_ you have made no secret of hating my fiancée. I'm sorry, what about that screams 'I want to be in your wedding'?"

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and the seamstress squeaks. "That's the way you see it?"

Santana snorts. "How else am I supposed to see it?"

"The way it actually is! I've only been late because-"

"Because you go out and party all night before every single one of my wedding appointments. Or you stay in, but have whatever boy you're dating fuck you until four in the morning. You don't even care enough to fucking go to bed on time so you can get up at a decent hour and show me you actually give a shit about this."

Kurt stares, hands clenching, then turns on his heel. "Fine, whatever," he wishes the change rooms had doors so he could slam it. "You don't think I give a shit, I'm done. Have a nice fucking wedding, asshole." He strips off the suit, leaving it in a pile on the floor, throws his own clothes back on and begins to storm out.

Finn places a hand on his arm to stop him. "Kurt," he whispers. "Come on. We're family. Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything," he says. "She's the one being a little bitch about everything."

Finn's hand tightens on his arm. "Kurt, please. It's her wedding. She just wants it to be perfect."

"Then why isn't Marley helping out more? Oh, wait, I forgot, she doesn't know how to do anything but cry every time a butterfly dies."

"That's my fiancée Kurt," Santana snaps. "That's my fiancée, I love her, and I would really appreciate it if you stopped talking about her like that all the fucking time."

"I'm just telling the truth, San. She's boring. You know it, Rachel knows it, Finn knows it, Dad knows it, even _she_ knows it. She's boring, she's lame, and we all know the only reason you're marrying her is because she's a Rose."

"Don't," Santana takes a warning step toward him. "Do not start this again. I love her."

"You love her money," Kurt spits out. "Whatever, I'm not having this argument with you again. Just... do whatever you want. I'm out."

"Kurt," Finn tries, but Kurt snatches his arm away.

"No," he shakes his head and puts his sunglasses back on his face. "I'm done."

He hears Rachel ask, "Wait, what happened?" as he leaves and shakes his head. Fuck, he really hates his family.

**

It takes exactly thirty-seven minutes for Santana to rat him out to his dad. He's still in the goddamn cab when his phone rings – the theme song from Jaws. He groans and swipes his phone to answer.

"Yes, Father?"

"What's this about you not being in Santana's wedding?"

Kurt heaves a heavy sigh. "She kicked me out Dad."

"That's not what I heard."

"Of course it isn't," Kurt runs a hand through his hair.

"Come see me immediately."

"Are you kidding? I have plans."

"Not anymore. I want you in my office within the hour. We'll discuss this there."

Kurt doesn't answer, just hangs up the phone and tells the cabbie their new destination. He stares out at the city traffic and tries to think of a time when he didn't hate every single member of his family. It doesn't take him long to realize that that time never existed.

**

The lobby receptionist is pretty and blond and Kurt is at least seventy percent sure that he's had sex with him at some point. "Hi, I'm here to see Burt Hummel."

The receptionist glances up at him and his mouth opens slightly, red tinting the tips of his ears. Yeah, Kurt definitely slept with this guy. "Um. Do you... Appointment?"

"Just page his secretary, let her know Kurt's here."

"Right. Okay. Yeah."

Kurt doesn't wait for the receptionist to do his job, just walks to the elevators and presses the up button. The farthest elevator to the right slides open and Kurt glides into it, ignoring the stammering coming from the receptionist. He presses the button for the 35th floor and leans his hips against the back wall.

Right before the door closes someone shouts, "Hold the elevator!" Kurt doesn't move, but the person still slips in. It’s a blonde woman who looks Kurt's age, hair twisted into an elegant bun, and wearing a light pink blouse, beige pencil skirt, and a gorgeous set of pearls around her neck.

"Oh," she says when she sees who it is. "Kurt. Hello."

He nods his head at her, then looks at the elevator buttons. He's only ever been on the first, seventh, eighteenth, and thirty-fifth floor. He wonders what are on the rest.

Kitty presses twenty-seven.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. She has a Bluetooth device in her ear. It has a small, flashing blue light.

"What do you think?" Kurt's hands fall into his pockets and he smirks. "Getting reamed out by my dad."

Kitty purses her lips. "I see," she says. She sounds stuffed up.

"You work here?" Kurt can't help but ask. Kitty barely spares him a glance, raising an immaculate eyebrow as if to say 'obviously'. "That's great, real great. Twenty-seventh floor, pretty high up." He pushes himself off the wall, but doesn't move away from it. "Pretty close to my dad's office."

Kitty doesn't react to the insinuation, just continues to stand tall facing away from him. "I work in the legal department, which just so happens to be on the twenty seventh floor." Despite her calm appearance, Kurt can see beads of sweat forming at her hairline.

"Right, right. You're still getting your degree though, aren't you?"

"So?" Kitty asks harshly.

Kurt shrugs. "Just seems strange. High profile company like Hummel's hiring a law student instead of an actual lawyer."

"Haven't you heard?" Kitty turns, her jaw sharp and her eyes gleaming with five years of anger and resentment. "I've got an in with the boss."

The elevator dings and Kitty steps out easily, heels clacking against the marble floors barely masking the sound of a sneeze. Kurt glares as the elevator doors close behind her and leans back against the wall. He can't believe he ever used to be friends with that woman.

He wonders if Tina can score him some good shit for tonight. He really wants to forget everything about today.

He gets off on the thirty-fifth floor and starts walking down the long corridor leading to his father's office. The top floor of the Hummel Enterprise building has always seemed like the most lavish thing a CEO could indulge in: an entire floor dedicated to nothing else but his office and the hallway leading up to it. It's beyond excessive, everything made of marble, a mix of black, gold, and white.

At one point in his life, when he was incredibly young, Kurt dreamed of coming to this floor to work every day. He dreamed of being like his dad, of sitting behind the big desk and calling his secretary (who spent about ninety percent of her time on the thirty-fourth floor) to ask her for inane updates.

That was a long time ago though. Now he feels lucky if he doesn't get summoned up here more than twice a month.

He doesn't bother knocking, just pushes the oak doors aside and strides in, pasting a smile on his face at the sight of his father.

"Kurt," his dad greets him, standing up from behind the desk. Kurt nods his head and puts on an air of importance.

"Mr. Hummel," he replies, extending a hand. His dad doesn't take it, only stares at it instead.

"Sit down," he says, doing so himself. Kurt falls into one of the plush leather chairs sitting across from his father. "Explain."

Kurt cocks his head to the side. "Explain what?"

Burt grits his teeth. "Explain why you told your sister you aren't going to be in her wedding."

"Half-sister," Kurt clarifies. "She's my half-sister. And like I said on the phone, she kicked me out. It was like someone pissed in her cereal this morning."

"Kurt," his dad glares. "This is serious. You know how much this wedding means to our families."

"Oh, trust me, I know," he nods, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. "The Hummel and Rose dynasties, finally connecting. You must be as proud as an old king who ships off his daughter as a peace treaty."

"Santana and Marley love each other," his dad leans back in his chair. "They've been together a long time. The only reason this wedding means a lot is because it will finally see the union of two young people in love."

"And you know all about young people, don't you Dad?"

Burt purses his lips and shuts his eyes. He breathes in deeply, then exhales. "Not today, Kurt."

"I saw Kitty in the elevator," Kurt replies instead, resting his cheeks in his hands. "She looked nice."

"I said not today," his dad repeats, louder this time.

Kurt sighs, long and exaggerated. "Fine," he pouts. "Are you really going to punish me because Santana got up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"No," Burt shakes his head, lacing his fingers together over the table. "But I am going to cut you off."

The words hit Kurt like a knife. He shoots up, hands instantly fisting at his side. "Excuse me?!"

"I'm cutting you off, Kurt."

"I'm sorry, and that's not a punishment _how_?!"

"Well, not completely of course. I'll get you a job here, obviously."

"A jo- Dad. I have a job."

Burt laughs humorlessly. "Finn told me you got fired."

"Well, see that's the thing with being a model. You can always get re-hired for other things."

"I'm sure," Burt shakes his head. "But while you're between shoots, you'll be here. I'm tired of seeing your drunken face on the cover of every magazine."

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest. "I think you're being a little bit unfair."

"No," his dad stands up. "I think I've been too lenient with you in the past. Once you get your inheritance you can do what you want, but until then you're working for me."

"This is stupid," he shakes his head. "Are you cutting Santana off too? Finn?"

"Santana and Finn have actual stable jobs, Kurt, and neither of them are out partying seven nights a week."

"I can't believe this," his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm. "This is total bullshit."

"Watch it," Burt points a finger. "Listen, kiddo, I've put up with a lot, okay? Every phase you've gone through I've indulged, I've let you do as you please; but you're out of control, and pulling out of your sister's wedding just shows that I should have pulled the plug on this lifestyle of yours years ago."

"For the last time, I _didn't_ -"

"It doesn't matter. Either way you aren't in the wedding, and that doesn't look good Kurt."

Kurt laughs loudly. "So it is all about image."

"No, it's about family. Dammit Kurt."

"Whatever," Kurt shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. I'm already late to meet Tina."

"You and I are not done talking."

"Yes, we are," Kurt starts to walk over to the doors, then stops halfway, turns around, and says. "Let me know when you want me to start, but I'll warn you: I'm going to be the shittiest employee you've ever had."

Burt sits down slowly. "It'll just make me appreciate my good employees more."

Kurt scoffs and actually walks out this time, mumbling a quiet, "Asshole," as he goes.

On the way down to the main floor he thinks about the times when he and his dad got along. When Kurt was actually invited to Friday night dinners with the family, when Carole would greet him at the door with a hug and Santana would actually attempt conversation with him.

Some days he misses those times. Most of the time he's glad they're gone. If he'd known the truth about his dad... he never would have loved him the way he did. He never would have put so much trust in him.

He winks at the receptionist on his way out the door, and the poor boy looks like he's going to melt into a puddle.

 

**August 11, 2008**

Everything's a blur. There are people dancing, drinking, shouting, singing around him, but he can't really see them. What he does see is _them_. Sebastian and that slutty twink, fucking around behind his back. Like he's some pathetic girlfriend that Sebastian can just cheat on. Like he's just another guy for Sebastian.

_As if_. He's Kurt fucking Hummel. Guys don't use Kurt Hummel, Kurt Hummel uses guys.

He'll show Sebastian. He'll show him for thinking he has any sort of control over this relationship. He'll show him for thinking he could make a fool of Kurt.

And he knows exactly how to do it.

 

**May 28, 2015**

Finn is standing in front of his apartment when he gets home. His tux jacket is draped over his arm and he looks like he wants to kill him.

"Where were you?"

"Dad wanted to talk," he says, unlocking the door. "He cut me off. Said he's getting me a job."

"About time," Finn says, walking in after him and shutting the door behind him. He places his jacket on the dining room table.

Kurt gapes. "Are you serious? _About time_?!"

He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've been telling him to cut you off for years now. Actually, I think the first time I told him was when you turned eighteen and decided to drop out of college in order to pursue a career as a model."

"I can't believe this," he runs his hands through his hair and turns away from him. "My own fucking brother."

"Just like Santana is your sister," he snaps. Kurt freezes.

"All she and I share is a mother," he says as calmly as he can. "You and I have an actual relationship."

"You guys share a family," he says, placing a hand on Kurt's arm. Kurt pulls it away. "Kurt, come on. Don't you think this has gone on long enough?"

"No, you know what, it hasn't," Kurt says, turning to glare at him. "Until I receive an apology from my father for what he made me go through, until I receive an apology from Santana for freezing me out when I opened up my heart to her, until I receive an apology from Kitty for-"

"Kitty?" Finn interrupts. "Kitty Wilde? What does she have to do with anything?"

Kurt snorts, "Everything. She has everything to do with everything. And it's Crawford, in case you forgot."

"Not anymore. She and her mother changed their names, Terri back to her maiden name and Kitty to her grandmother’s name after... well." Finn sighs. "He cheated on her, Kurt. A lot. They didn't really want to be associated with him after he left them. Kitty didn't really want to be associated with her mom, considering how much shit she put up with from her dad."

"He didn't leave them, Finn. He died."

"He committed suicide."

"He's still fucking dead," his stomach twists, just as it does every time he thinks about Adam.

"Kurt," Finn puts his hand on his arm again, and this time he lets him leave it there. "This isn't about that. This is about Santana."

"She didn't even want me there in the first place," he says. "She only asked me because you begged her to."

"We're a family, Kurt. You, me, Santana, your dad, my mom. I just want us to go back to being a family."

"Maybe I don't want to go back to being a family," Kurt says quietly. "Finn, if you knew the things I know, especially about Dad. You wouldn't want anything to do with him either."

"You know what I know about Dad, Kurt? I know that he adopted Santana after her dad fucked off, and I know that he paid thousands of dollars in legal fees fighting for custody over her even though she wasn’t really his. I know that he practically had to beg Grandpa and Grandma on his hands and knees to include her in the will, especially after that scandal of your mom going back to her maiden name. I know that he put his own inheritance on the line when he asked Grandpa and Grandma to put _me_ in the will even though I’m not a Hummel either.” He takes a deep breath, then makes sure to look directly into his eyes when he says, "And I know that he still loves you."

"If he loved me he wouldn't cut me off."

He groans. "Kurt, you're not- You're being deliberately obtuse. He's cutting you off because he knows you can do more with your life than go to parties and jump from pretty boy to pretty boy."

"What, and he thinks working a corporate job is going to help me?" He falls into one of the chairs around his dining room table. "He's just doing this because Santana kicked me out of his wedding. He's punishing me because Santana's a little bitch."

"You walked out of Santana's wedding. Don't even try, Kurt, I was there. You could have easily apologized for being late and not pitched a fit when you heard us talking."

"She was-"

"She was pissed. She's stressed out, okay? Marley's not really pulling her weight with the wedding planning, you dropped the ball on her bachelorette party, and then Sam dropped it so now she's planning her own, her dad is-"

"I'll plan the bachelorette party," Kurt says, clenching his fists. Finn raises both eyebrows.

"What?"

"I said I'll fucking plan the bachelorette party, okay? She's so mad I dropped the ball, well this is me picking the ball back up. I'll plan her stupid party."

Finn narrows his eyes. "You're not just doing this so that Dad doesn't cut you off, right?"

He huffs. "I'm doing it for you, okay?" he says. "I don't hate you, Finn. You're one of the only people in our family I don't hate."

Finn nods. "I wish you were doing it for her."

"Yeah," he laughs. "And I wish she hadn't cut me out of her life after I told her-" he stops himself, stomach twisting again. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"Kurt-"

"I said I'd plan the party, okay?"

He purses his lips. "Fine. I'll let her know. Don't be surprised if she doesn't want you to though."

"Whatever. If she doesn't want me to it saves me the trouble of doing it."

"Alright," he walks over to the table and picks up his jacket, then gives Kurt a considering look. “I have plans with Elizabeth on Tuesday. You should come too. You and I can spend some time together. Maybe talk things out a bit more.”

"I don't really want to talk about these things anymore to be honest with you," he tells him. "But I'll come to lunch. I haven't seen mom for a while."

"Yeah, she's been in Monaco," Finn smiles. "I love you, Kurt. You know that, right?"

Kurt opens the front door of his apartment for him, "Yeah, I know," he leans up to hug him. "Sorry I'm such a bitch."

"Don't be," he sighs. "I just wish... I wish things were different. We're a family, Kurt."

"Family doesn't treat people the way Dad and Santana treated me," he says, glaring past Finn to one of his neighbors who is standing by his own door, a bag of garbage clutched in his hand. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Finn squeezes his upper arm then leaves. His neighbor raises an eyebrow. "Why do you never apologize to me for being a bitch?"

He rolls his eyes and slams the door behind him.

 

**August 13, 2008**

"You look handsome," Rachel says, sliding up next to Kurt and linking their arms together. "Where'd you get the suit?"

"I don't remember," Kurt says, eyes focused on his father, who is currently talking to his best friend and right hand man, Adam Crawford. He can't believe his dad. Can't believe he would even dare to make eye contact with Adam after what he did.

"Oh, that's too bad. I've been looking for new places to get tuxes for Jesse. That boy has absolutely no sense of style."

"So you two have something in common," Kurt says, but it holds no weight. Rachel mock-gasps and slaps his shoulder.

"Kurt Hummel, how _dare_ you. I happen to be a very fashionable young woman."

Kurt tears his eyes away from his dad so he can smile at Rachel. "You're wearing a dress with peacock feathers on it."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Yeah, what _is_ wrong with that?" Finn asks, sidling up beside them. Rachel instantly ducks her head and starts fluffing her skirt, and Kurt can see the pink creeping up her neck.

He shrugs. "It's a bit much for my taste," he says. "You look nice Finn."

"Oh, thanks," Finn grins, "Santana and Quinn helped me pick it out."

"It's so nice your sister and your girlfriend get along so well," Rachel trills. "If I had a brother I would only hope he and Jesse got along as well as Santana and Quinn do."

"Nobody gets along with Jesse, Rachel, so I doubt this imaginary brother of yours would," Kurt says, chuckling at her indignation. "Where _is_ Santana? I've been looking for her all night."

Finn glances around the room, then points a finger. "Far left corner. She's talking to Kitty Crawford."

Kurt's shoulders instantly squared and his jaw set. "Oh," he says. "I guess I can talk to her later."

Rachel frowns. "Why not now?"

He shrugs, "Let's just say that Kitty and I had a... disagreement," he unhooks her arm from his. "If you'd excuse me," he nods to both of them and then makes his way to the bar at the other side of the room. As he walks he glances to where Adam Crawford is still talking to his dad, smirking when the man catches his eye.

He's not bad looking considering he's almost fifty. Definitely better looking than Kurt's father, that's for sure. For one, he still has all his hair - littered in gray as it may be. He's still fit as well, wearing his suit just as well as he did in the pictures Kurt has seen of his and Burt's college days. His dad, on the other hand, seems to be gaining gut by the hour. He can't see how anybody in their right mind would find him attractive at this point in his life.

"Just a soda please," Kurt orders when he reaches the bar, leaning over it in such a way that sticks his ass out a bit. He gives it about two minutes before Adam Crawford is by his side chatting him up.

The bartender hands him his Coke. Kurt doesn't even have time to take a sip before a smooth English accent is cooing, "Hey there," right next to his ear.

Bingo.

 

**May 29, 2015**

He's woken up by his cell phone ringing loudly in his ear. He grabs it from his night-stand and lazily swipes across the screen, catching just a glimpse of the caller. "Santana?" he asks, confused. "Why are you calling me?"

"Kurt, it's-" Santana's voice sounds rough. Like she's been crying.

"Wait," Kurt sits up, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Is this about the bachelorette party?"

"What?" Santana's voice breaks. "No, Kurt. This isn't- You have to get to the Hummel building now."

Kurt frowns. "Am I starting already? Jeez, you’d think Dad could have given me a bit of warning."

"No, Kurt, listen," Santana says, then takes in a deep breath. "It's Finn."

Kurt's heart stops in his chest. "What about him?"

Santana sniffs over the line and Kurt knows. He _knows_. "He's dead."

**

It takes him thirty minutes to reach Hummel Enterprises, getting out of the cab about three blocks away and fighting his way through the crowd that’s assembled around the building. He looks like shit, he knows he looks like shit, still in his pajamas, keys, wallet and cellphone clutched in his hands, running for his life and hoping, praying, it isn't true.

He can see the police cars from a block away. There's police tape everywhere, and at least a dozen cops are on the scene trying to keep unwanted onlookers from getting too close. Kurt picks up the pace, sprinting the last few feet and pushing past the police when he gets there.

"Sir, I'm sorry, you can't-"

"That's my brother," Kurt shouts, continuing to push past them until he reaches the rest of his family. They're all standing together, arms around each other and tear tracks staining their faces as they stare at a body covered in a white sheet. "My brother," Kurt croaks.

Everyone turns to look at him, but only Rachel moves to hug him. They're all here already; Santana and Marley are huddled together, Burt and Carole standing beside them. LeRoy and Hiram are standing with Quinn, Finn's wife, who can't seem to stop staring at where his body is lying a mere foot away from her. Sam has his phone clutched in his hand but for once it isn't anywhere near his ear, which is resting against Kurt's mom's shoulder.

His mom looks inconsolable, sobbing into Sam's hair. She looks about as good as he does, which says a lot.

"What happened?" Kurt asks, voice barely above a whisper. "Rachel, what happened to him?"

"He-" Rachel lets out a sob. "He jumped, Kurt. From the thirtieth floor."

Kurt shakes his head. "No," he whispers. "No, he was- yesterday, he was at my house. We made plans. He's not- no." Rachel hugs him tighter and he tries to push her away. " _No_."

"Kurt," she says, not letting him go. "Kurt, please."

"I can't- He's- _No!_ "

The police ask the family to back up as they pull out a stretcher with a black bag on it. Everyone watches in silence as they pick up the covered body and maneuver it into the bag without any care. Why should they be careful? He's dead. It's not like he can feel anything.

There's a sketch of his body when they lift him away. It looks wrong, too twisted to be human. His hand escapes the white sheet as the police place him in the body bag and Carole bursts into a fresh round of tears.

He was at his house. Last night, Finn was at his house and they made plans. He was going to tell Santana about the bachelorette party, they were going to get lunch with Kurt's mom on Tuesday. How could he do this? How could he lie to him like that? How could he make the last interaction they had be an argument? An unsolved argument. An unsolved argument that would never be solved.

Did he tell him he loved him? He doesn't remember.

"My brother," he whispers to himself as Rachel clings to him. "My brother."

 

**August 13, 2008**

"Where have you been?" Burt snaps at his son the second he sees him. Kurt raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lip lifting as he smirks at his dad. He makes a show of tucking the rest of his shirt into his pants.

"You know. Around."

"This isn't a joke, Kurt," Burt says, grabbing his arm. "Tell me where you were right now."

He laughs, "You know exactly where I was, Dad," he looks into his dad's eyes, expecting to see fury, anger. Everything Kurt felt the day before, when he found out. When he saw.

Instead he sees panic.

"Where is he?"

"What?"

"I told you this isn't a joke, Kurt. Where is he?"

Kurt pulls his hand out of his dad's grasp. "I don't know, psycho," he says, wrapping his own hand around his arm. "Probably by the docks, where I left him."

Burt runs past him into the night, and Kurt stares, confused. Before he can second guess himself he takes off after his dad, running back in the direction he came.

It's about a five minute walk to the docks, but Kurt and Burt arrive in two. There's nobody there.

"What's happening?" Kurt asks, fear starting to extend through his body. His dad doesn't respond, just starts walking out onto the dock, looking around. Kurt follows him. "Dad, tell me what's going on."

"We don't know, Kurt," his dad snaps. "We don't know anything, okay? We just know that you two disappeared and we heard a scream. Now you're back, but Adam isn't. Now can you shut up and let me look around?"

Kurt purses his lips, keeping them shut tight. Burt continues to look around the dock, almost frantically. It isn't until he reaches the end of the dock that he lets out a surprised shout, falling onto his back and scrambling away from the edge. Kurt rushes forward, ignoring his dad and looking over the edge himself.

He wants to throw up. He can feel the bile rising up within him, starting at the very base of his esophagus and moving up.

He's never seen a dead body before, but he knows without a doubt that that's what this is. Floating in the water, total dead weight, no movement. His skin is pale, and his suit jacket is floating beside him. There's a bottle of rum still clutched tightly in his hand.

Kurt leans over the side of the deck and throws up.

 

**May 29, 2015**

"It just doesn't make sense," Kurt's mom blows her nose into yet another tissue, the edges of it blackening with her runny mascara. "Why? Why would he kill himself? I don't understand why."

Kurt hands her a mug of tea along with a couple of sugar cubes. "I don't know," he replies, sitting down on the sofa across from where she sits. "I... He was here yesterday. Yelling at me about how I wasn't trying enough with Santana's wedding." He looks down at his lap, where his hands are wringing together. "He invited me on your lunch date."

"He wasn't depressed," his mom continues, almost as if Kurt hadn't spoken at all. "He told me just the other day he was in a good place in his life. Oh, he was so excited about Santana's wedding. Almost as excited as he was about his own."

"Mom," Kurt reaches forward to cover his mother's hands with his own. She looks up, face almost entirely black at this point. "Sometimes the people we love keep the biggest secrets from us. I mean, you read the note they found on his computer."

She scoffs. "That note? Oh, that note was nothing, it said nothing. I know Finn, he would have never left us with nothing but _I'm sorry, I love you, but I can't do this anymore_. Ask Carole if you don't believe me. It's not like him."

"I know you're in denial mom, but-"

"No, I'm not in denial, and I absolutely refuse to believe that this has anything to do with that stupid curse, too."

He sighs, squeezing her hands. Ever since news of Finn's suicide broke, newspapers and magazines everywhere have been covered in headlines proclaiming that _The Hummel Curse Strikes Again!_ Kurt hates the media for that. He hates how they've taken his family's tragedy and turned it into nothing but another piece of a hoax puzzle. Finn wasn't even biologically a Hummel, just like Adam hadn't been. He doesn't understand how some people still believe in that thing.

"Mom-"

"I need to use your washroom," she stands up, wiping under her eyes ineffectually. "It's down the hall, right?"

Kurt sighs and nods, watching her pull out her phone as she walks away, standing up himself and heading to the closet to get an extra pillow and some bedding. There's no way he's letting his mom go home in the state she's in, but he also knows there's no way he can make her sleep on the couch, so he sets up the couch the way he likes it.

His phone dings as he works. He pauses mid-set up and frowns at the text he just received from Sam.

_Look at the website_.

He knows what website he's talking about without having to be told. For about as long as Kurt can remember there's been a website around that details basically everything about the Hummels that can be found. It's anonymously run, and whoever is in charge must be an expert because no matter how many times the family has tried to get the website taken down it never amounts to anything.

He pulls the website up on his phone, jaw dropping when he sees the newest article. He glances around the room as if someone were watching, though he knows there's nobody there. He looks at the article again. He clicks on it.

There's nothing more than the headline. No text, no pictures, nothing. Just big, black, bold letters, stabbing him right through the chest.

_One down, four to go_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there isn't much to go on just yet, but I would absolutely love if people told me their guesses as to who the killer is :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for an explicit sex scene between a 17 year old and a much older man in this chapter (last scene of this chapter)

**August 12, 2008**

Kurt almost makes it out of the house without his dad catching him. Almost being the key word.

"Hey bud," Burt calls out. "Where you going?"

Kurt presses his eyes shut, then turns around and smiles widely at his dad, "Oh, you know," he points vaguely at the front door. "Out. With Tina."

Burt raises an eyebrow. "Really" He snorts. "On a Friday night? What a shock."

Kurt laughs exaggeratedly. "Yeah, I know. I'm so predictable. Anyway, I should get going, she'll be waiting for me."

"Some nice jeans you got on there," his dad says as he turns, causing Kurt to wince. He understands the tone of voice, has heard it a thousand times before.

"Present from mom," he replies. His dad will never check with his mom to see if that's true, if she really bought her son skin tight jeans with rips all over - one of them strategically placed just below his left ass cheek. Actually, he's pretty sure his mom buying him jeans like this isn't that far-fetched. God knows she's been seen out and about in worse. "Haven't really had a chance to wear them yet." Another lie. He wore them to Sebastian's party last week.

"Right," Burt sounds skeptical. "Okay, well, have a good time."

Kurt feels suspicion leak into his mind. What, that's it? No lecture? No 'you better not come home drunk again'? No 'there better not be a boy in your bed when I wake up'? He's just going to let Kurt go to an unknown destination he's clearly trying to hide from him with jeans that come dangerously close to exposing his ass, just like that?

He doesn't want to push his luck, so he just replies. "Thanks. I'll be home late," and hurries out the door before his dad can change his mind.

 

**June 2, 2015**

Five years ago, Kurt attended a funeral that he could not give less of a shit about. He remembers sitting three pews back from where he's sitting now, trying to hide the fact that he was bored out of his mind from his brother. Now said brother is the one in the coffin at the front of the church.

It doesn't make sense. None of it makes any sense.

Marley is bawling several people away from him. At least she knew Finn; Kurt can't hold her tears against her this time. Rachel and his mom are each clinging to one of his arms, their heads buried in his shoulder as they cry as well. His dad is staring stone faced at the preacher as he talks, face giving away nothing. Kurt wants to slap him, to yell at him, to get him to display any form of emotion, his stepson is _dead_ , but he doesn't have the energy to do any of that.

Sam is crying quietly at the end of the row, but most of his focus is on Carole who is crying harder than anybody in the room. Kurt can't imagine how hard this must be for Sam - Finn was the one who helped him out the most when his parents died. Kurt helped too, but Kurt's help came more in the form of buying his cousin endless drinks with his dad's credit card and hooking him up with as many hot girls as he could. Finn's help was further along the lines of letting Sam crash with him and Quinn and talking about whatever he wanted, then talking to Burt about getting Sam promoted.

LeRoy and Hiram don't look as affected as the rest of the family, but still more affected than Burt. Hell, his dad had looked more affected when Adam died.

Four men stand up from the front row and each picks up an edge of the coffin. Kurt watches them go.

His brother is in there. He's in there, he's just lying there, he can't do anything. He's dead and Kurt could have stopped him. He could have asked him to stay the night, could have apologized for walking out of Santana's wedding, could have kept him around for just a little bit longer. He could have told him he loved him one more time.

Quinn stands up as soon as she can and runs to the nearest bathroom. It takes everything inside Kurt not to follow.

**August 11, 2008**

He needs a drink. He needs two drinks. He needs every drink in this house, right now, right fucking now.

"Whoa, hey," Tina sees him downing three shots of raspberry vodka and rushes to his side. "Slow down there tiger, you just got here."

"He cheated," Kurt mumbles, pouring himself another shot and drinking it. "He fucking cheated on me, that fucking son of a bitch."

"Sebastian?" Tina's jaw drops. "Oh my god. I'll kill him. I'm actually going to kill him."

"He thinks he can cheat on me?" Kurt says, drinking a fifth shot. "On _me_? I'm Kurt fucking Hummel, what, does he think he can do _better_ than me?"

"Okay sweetie," Tina stops him from pouring another shot. "That's enough. Give it a couple of hours before you drink more."

"I'm the most famous person he's ever even been near. He was just some dumb rich boy before he met me, and now he's on the cover of Us Weekly every week, and he thinks he has the right to cheat on me?!"

"Kurt, come on. I'm going to take you upstairs."

"No," he pushes her away, possibly a bit more roughly than he originally intended. "No, fuck. I'm staying here. Getting drunk with my best friend and dancing with all the pretty boys I could have been dancing with during that fucking social experiment of a relationship."

She stares at him for a few seconds, then nods. "Alright," he's already starting to feel light headed and stumbles a bit when she takes his hand. "Let's dance."

 

**June 2, 2015**

Sam pulls him, Rachel, and Santana aside as everyone leaves. Santana has to shoo Marley away, and thankfully Elizabeth takes the girl under her arm and lets her cry on her shoulder. Kurt didn't think that such a dependent girl could still exist in 2015, but Marley never ceased to surprise him.

"I think it meant us," Sam says, wiping tear tracks from his face. "The article."

"It wasn't an article," Rachel hisses. "It was a threat."

"Why do you think it meant us?" Santana asks.

"Five heirs and heiresses," Sam replies, as if it’s that simple. "You, me, Kurt, Rachel, and Finn. One down, four to go."

The suspicion had entered Kurt's mind, but he hadn't really had time to dwell on it over the past few days. "I was thinking the same," Kurt says. "But, why? Why would someone want to kill us?"

"It was a suicide," Santana says, her jaw clenched. "Finn jumped. Nobody's trying to kill us."

"Then how do you explain the website?"

Santana throws his hands in the air. "I don't know! Some psycho who thinks it’s funny to torture people who are mourning? We've always known whoever runs that thing is sick in the head, there's nothing really new about that."

"Yeah, but this is the first time they've made death threats."

"But _why_?" Kurt asks again. "Why us? None of us have done anything particularly bad recently," Rachel shifts from foot to foot and Sam's cheeks redden. "We don't have our inheritance yet. What would be the point?"

"I don't know," Sam says, hand already going to his pocket for his phone. "But I think we should all stay indoors for the foreseeable future. Just in case."

"No way," Rachel says instantly. "I start rehearsals for _Mamma Mia_ in a week, there's no way in hell that I'm missing that."

"Yeah,” Santana agrees. “My wedding is coming up and I've got like, four surgeries scheduled over the next week. I can't stay inside for that."

Sam turns to Kurt, who shrugs. "It's whatever to me. Not like I do much."

"You won't be able to do it either," Rachel says, pointing an accusing finger at Sam. "One call from the office is all it will take. You can't even go an hour without that stupid phone in your hand."

"Okay," Sam raises his hands in the air, one still holding his cell. "It was just an idea. I do think we need to talk to the police about this though."

"No, we don't," Kurt says. "We don't know anything. Santana said it, Finn committed suicide. It was horrible, and it sucks, but there's nothing more to it. Some asshole's just trying to stir shit up."

"What if it's not? What if there's more to it? You know, I heard Elizabeth talking and-"

"Fuck, okay," Kurt presses his fingers to his temple. "My mom just lost one of her closest friends, someone she saw as a son. She's not exactly thinking straight. Finn was one of your closest friends as well, you're not exactly thinking straight."

"He was your brother," Sam snaps. "How are _you_ thinking straight?"

Kurt's jaw sets. "Fuck you," he says. "Just because I don't think there's some killer out there who's going to pick us off one by one doesn't mean that I don't miss him."

"We all miss him," Santana says, putting a supportive hand on Kurt's shoulder. It weighs heavier than it should. He thinks this is the first time Santana's touched him since... then. He wants to shrug her off, but he can see the disappointed look Finn would give him if he were here.

If he weren't dead.

"I still think something fishy is going on," Sam says, unlocking his phone and typing something in. "You guys may not think so, but I do." He puts the phone to his ear and starts walking away. "Be careful," he tells them as he goes. "I know I'm going to be."

"He's not-" Rachel glances between Kurt and Santana. "I mean, what he said about the police. There isn't going to be an investigation or anything, right?"

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

She huffs. "It would be inconvenient, that's all. I would rather mourn without the police poking their nose in my business."

"Same," Santana murmurs. "My brother died. I don't need cops all over me on top of that."

"Right," Kurt nods. "Let's just hope that Sam and my mom see it the same way."

He follows Sam out of the church, not bothering to say goodbye. He thinks this is the longest conversation he's had with any of his family members, outside of Finn and his mom, in over five years. On top of the events of the day, he's exhausted. All he wants to do is fall in bed and sleep for hours.

There's a woman waiting outside the church as he exits, and he freezes when she turns.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

Kitty takes a step forward. "I'm sorry about Finn," she whispers. "I know he meant a lot to you."

"He did," Kurt replies curtly. "But I know you aren't here to tell me that."

Kitty purses her lips, "We worked together in the legal department. He was my... mentor, I suppose," her eyes begin to water, and dear lord, Marley crying is one thing, but Kurt really doesn't think he can handle watching Kitty do it. "I didn't realize what had happened until-" she looks down at her feet. "-someone called me about it. I was... I was sick that day."

Someone. Someone called her. "Really?" Kurt whispers. "Still? _Still_?"

"Kurt, don't. Not today."

"No, you're right. I can't deal with you today. Don't burst a vessel with all those fake tears of yours."

He starts to walk away, and Kitty shouts. "You don't know anything, Kurt. Nothing."

Kurt stops. His fingernails dig into the palm of his hand. He doesn't reply, just stands there for a couple of seconds before he continues walking.

 

**August 13, 2008**

"Sex on the beach, please," Adam orders, sneaking a glance at Kurt as he does. Kurt smirks, straightening his body out. This is going to be easier than he thought.

"I didn't know you were into fruity drinks," Kurt says, licking his lips. Adam shifts so that he's facing Kurt, his left arm leaning against the bar.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Kurt."

Kurt grins. "Mysterious," he flirts easily, bringing a hand to Adam's wrist. "I've always been a sucker for a man who keeps secrets."

"Really?" Adam steps closer. "Lucky me."

Kurt glances over to where he knows his dad is. Burt's watching them, eyes stone cold. Kurt raises an eyebrow in his direction, then leans close to Adam and whispers. "Do you know somewhere more... private? You could tell me one of your secrets."

"You sure?" Adam asks, and Kurt chuckles.

"Do I look unsure to you?"

Adam gives him a look over, then whispers. "Docks, five minutes."

"Sex on the beach," the bartender says, placing the drink in front of them. Adam waggles his eyebrows, then disappears. Kurt takes the drink, then walks to where his dad is standing.

"Here," he says, smiling sickly sweet. "For you."

Burt still looks cold. "What's this?"

Kurt shrugs. "It's a sex on the beach," and with that he turns and exits, not even caring that half the people in the room probably know exactly what he's about to do, and with whom.

 

**June 5, 2015**

"He actually did it, Kurt!" Rachel screeches over the phone. Kurt winces, holding his cell further away from his ear. "He called them, he and your mom actually called the police!"

"What?" Kurt asks, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on his pillow.

"Sam and your mother. They called the police about Finn and the website threat. We're all supposed to meet at the police precinct in an hour."

Kurt flicks the notification menu down and sees that he has three missed calls from his mom and a voice mail. "What happened to we should all stay inside? Isn't putting everyone in one spot going to make it easier for a potential killer to catch us?"

"I can't handle this right now, Kurt," Rachel shrieks. "I really can't. Rehearsals are starting for _Mamma Mia_ , and my agent wants me to do a reading for a new musical in a couple of weeks, plus I'm supposed to be teaching a workshop soon. I don't have time for this."

"Calm down," Kurt rolls his eyes. "It's not like they're going to need you at the police station every other hour."

Rachel's breathing becomes heavier over the phone. "Why did I even bother calling you?" she asks angrily, "I should have known you wouldn't understand."

Kurt snorts. "I don't understand? Rachel, if anyone has anything to be worried about, it's me. I was with Finn the night before he died. My stupid nosy neighbor saw us together. If they're actually going with murder I might be a prime suspect. At least you have an alibi." She doesn't respond, just continues to breath heavily, "You do have an alibi, right Rachel?"

"What are you insinuating?" she shouts. "Of course I have an alibi," she huffs. "Whatever, you're no help. I guess I'll see you in an hour."

Kurt sighs as he hangs up. "Yeah," he says to himself. "Guess I'll see you in an hour.”

 

**August 12, 2008**

The Anderson house is surprisingly big. Not as big as the Hummel's, of course, but definitely bigger than the Smythe's. Kurt shoos away the anger that threatens to take him over at the thought of his ex. Or, soon to be ex. Whatever, he's not really sure.

He rings the doorbell and takes a step back.

He knows Blaine has to be home. How many times has he heard Sebastian drunkenly talking about doing just this? Showing up at Blaine's on a Friday night, dressed to kill, conveniently unaware that he's home alone. Sebastian's such a creep sometimes, Kurt can't believe he ever dated the guy. Or, is dating. Whatever. Either way the guy's a sleaze.

It's Blaine who opens the door after about a minute. He's wearing one of those dorky sweater vests of his, and still has a bow tie wrapped around his collar. His jeans are tight, though, and Kurt's seen his backside in those jeans. He can't wait to see it without them.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks, eyebrows furrowing. Kurt grins.

"Hey Blaine. I hope you don't mind, I got your address off Sebastian."

"No, I don't- What are you doing here?"

Kurt shrugs, hands going to the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know. It’s summer, I’m bored.” He chews on his bottom lip, faking coy. “I can go somewhere else if you’re busy.”

"No, I'm not busy," Blaine steps aside to let Kurt in. "I'm just surprised. Don't you have, I don't know, closer friends that can entertain you? A boyfriend?”

Kurt rolls his eyes at that. “No to the boyfriend," he smirks when Blaine perks up a little, eyes slightly wider, mouth curved up just the slightest. “And yeah, I do, but I wanted to come hang out with you. We’ve run in the same circles for almost all of our high school careers but we’ve never really gotten to know each other. I think it’s about time that changed, don’t you think?”

Blaine flushes bright pink and ducks his head.

This is going to be too easy.

**June 5, 2015**

There's already a small hoard of paparazzi and press surrounding the police station, most likely tipped off by one of the Hummels themselves. Kurt's money's on his mom or Rachel.

A reporter from TMZ shoves a microphone in his face and shouts, "Kurt Hummel, does this familial visit to the police have anything to do with the recent death of your brother Finn?"

Kurt shoves the microphone away and keeps walking, flipping off the cameras as he goes. They keep taking pictures though, and Kurt hurries inside to stop the anger he's feeling at their presence from growing.

There's a young woman at the front desk typing away at a computer and ignoring the ringing phone. Kurt clears his throat, and she glances up. Her cheeks are already a dark red, which means that most of his family has most likely arrived. "Hi," he says, not bothering to fake a smile. "I was summoned here by my mother. Where are the Hummels?"

She clears her throat. "Conference room. Um, the second hallway there, third door on the right."

Kurt nods and heads that way. He can't believe his mom is making him do this.

As he predicted, most of his family is already seated around the conference room table. Elizabeth is seated at the end, fingers laced together on the table, back straight. Sam is sitting beside her tapping away at his phone. Santana is sitting between Burt and Carole - no Marley this time. Burt keeps glancing at Elizabeth like he wants to say something, but Kurt guesses he doesn't dare in front of Carole. Quinn is sitting alone in a corner, arms crossed over her chest, looking entirely displeased to be here. Rachel sits perfectly poised beside her fathers, hair and make-up absolutely perfect. So it was Rachel who called the paps then.

"Oh, good, you're finally here," Elizabeth says, motioning for Kurt to sit down in an empty chair. Kurt chooses one as far away from everyone as he can. "That means we can get started."

"If this is about you thinking Finn was murdered," Kurt drawls, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the table, "I've already told you, you're just mourning. There's no need for any of this."

"I agree," Rachel pipes up instantly. Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I mean," Santana shifts in her seat uncomfortably, "Just because Finn didn't seem depressed it doesn't mean he wasn't. Why do we have to keep this going longer than it needs to?"

"Because your brother didn't commit suicide; he was murdered," a familiar voice says, and everyone turns to the front of the room to see a young man standing between Sam and Elizabeth's chairs, a badge pinned to his chest. Kurt's eyes widen at the sight of him, taking in the carefully gelled back hair, warm honey eyes, his clean shaven jaw and bow shaped lips. He's still short, still small, though possibly more gorgeous than he was back then. He's wearing a bowtie and everything.

 _Shit_.

"Excuse me?" Santana asks, turning her own gaze to the police officer. Kurt lowers himself in his chair, lifting his shoulders to try and shield himself.

"You heard me," the man says, and Kurt hears him place his hands on the table. He shuts his eyes. _Whywhywhy_. "Miss Lopez and Mr. Evans have brought new evidence to my attention, evidence that officially classifies this as a murder case."

Burt clears his throat, "I'm sorry, officer..."

"Anderson," Blaine says, and Kurt grits his teeth. His last hope that this isn't who he thought it was flies out the window. "And it's Detective, actually."

"Right, Detective Anderson. While I'm sure Elizabeth and Sam have good intentions, my family would really prefer to mourn without the police poking their noises in all of our business."

"I completely understand," Blaine replies, voice tight. "Unfortunately, based on the evidence, I can't simply - how should I say - 'drop this.'" Kurt chances a glance to the front of the table and he sees Blaine staring back at him. He looks away.

"What evidence?" Quinn asks from her corner of the room. Kurt turns to stare, noticing out of the corner of his eye how the rest of his family does the same. "You've mentioned evidence that officially rules this out as a suicide. Finn was my husband; I'd like to know what the evidence is."

"Of course," Blaine sounds relaxed. Maybe he doesn't recognize Kurt. Maybe he doesn't care. "The suicide note Finn left was written after he died."

There's silence. Kurt can't stop himself from looking up with wide eyes, his heart stuttering in his chest, "What?" he whispers, drawing attention to himself. Blaine raises an eyebrow.

"Finn was seen jumping - or, as I have reason to believe, falling - at 8:31AM. The time stamp on the computer note shows it was written at 8:35AM. We know it's not that large a discrepancy, but it is still impossible for Finn to have written a suicide note at 8:35 but to have been seen jumping four minutes earlier."

The room is silent and Kurt feels like he's been punched. Murdered. His brother was murdered. They have evidence and - his brother was _murdered_.

Burt clears his throat. "What do you need from us Detective?"

"Just a couple of hours of your time," Blaine replies easily. "Individual interviews, no longer than fifteen minutes each."

"Does it have to be today?" Rachel asks primly. "I'm meeting with my agent in an hour and really should be on my way."

Blaine smiles, but it's so cold Kurt's surprised Rachel hasn't frozen on the spot. "Why don't we begin with you then, Miss Berry?"

"Oh, are you familiar with my work?" she begins, standing up and rushing to where Blaine's standing. "Have you seen one of my plays? It was _Funny Girl_ , wasn't it? You seem like the type who would enjoy _Funny Girl_."

Blaine continues to smile politely but doesn't reply, instead placing a hand on Rachel's lower back and leading her out of the room. As soon as he's gone Burt stands up and points an accusing finger at his ex-wife.

"You had no right."

"The hell I didn't," she exclaims. "Finn was one of my closest friends, one of the only links I still had to this family. Just because he and I weren't biologically related doesn't mean I didn't count him as family."

"He was _my_ stepson," Burt shouts. "Might as well have been my son. You think you're the only one suffering? You think you're the only one who feels pain?"

"Seeing as I'm the only one who cared to look deeper-"

"Are you insinuating-"

"Stop it!" Carole exclaims, slamming her hands on the table. "Both of you stop it, stop it right now." Elizabeth straightens her shoulders and Burt slowly sits back down. "God, this family can't even come together during a tragedy."

Burt points at Elizabeth again. "She is not part of this family."

"You made damn sure of that, didn't you?" Elizabeth snaps.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that-"

"I said stop it!" Carole shouts again, banging a fist on the table once more, then pointing an accusing finger at Burt, then Elizabeth. "You will both keep your mouths shut until this ordeal is done with, and that's the end of it. I don't want to hear another word out of either of you."

"Carole-"

"I said zip it Burt," Carole glares at him. “She did the right thing, and as Finn's _mother_ , I support this investigation completely. If my son was murdered I want to know who did it. So _shut up_ , stop pointing fingers, and let the police do their damn job."

The room falls into silence after that, Elizabeth practically shaking with rage in her seat and Burt staring at his wife like he's never seen her before. Kurt glances between his parents and slumps further into his seat. He can already tell it's going to be a long day.

**August 13, 2008**

The evening air is cool on Kurt's bare skin, but Kurt barely feels it. There's a hot mouth on his neck and warm hands running up and down his naked chest. It's nothing like last night - there are no fumbles, no quiet "is this okay"s, no blushing or hesitance. There's just Adam, the man he's known his entire life, moving a hand down to his belt buckle and undoing it.

He tries to tell himself this is better, but he isn’t very convincing.

"I've been watching you," Adam murmurs against his neck. "Wanting you."

"I know," Kurt breathes, because he does. He's seen the way his dad's friend stares, seen him drag his eyes over Kurt's body like a ripe piece of fruit. Kurt wonders how long he's been waiting for this, then realizes he probably doesn't want to know.

"Now here you are," Adam undoes Kurt’s belt but doesn't remove it, instead leaves it hanging around Kurt's hips as he moves to his pants' zipper. "After teasing me for so long. Parading that stupid boyfriend of yours in front of me. You knew what you were doing, didn't you? Little minx."

"Okay, enough talking," Kurt says, because honestly he doesn't want to think about any of that. He places his hands on Adam's shoulders and pushes down. Adam goes eagerly, dropping to his knees and pulling Kurt's cock out of his pants in one sure movement. He once again tries to convince himself that it's much better being with someone who knows what he's doing. Better than last night, with Blaine blubbering on and on about "Am I doing it right?" and "Can we go a bit slower? Sorry." He definitely likes this better.

It doesn't take long before he's coming down Adam's throat, hips thrusting into the older man's mouth. It's clear Adam's spent a large portion of his life perfecting this ability, and Kurt can only dream of one day bringing a man off as quickly and perfectly as Adam does.

This man obviously knows how to get a job done, and get it done fast. Not a very surprising ability for a gay man married to a woman.

"Thanks," Kurt says when Adam pops off. "Want me to return the favor?"

"Shit, yeah," Adam breathes, standing up and pushing Kurt down on his knees. "Been dreaming about your mouth."

Kurt wants to tell Adam that he's been dreaming about his cock, but that would be a lie, wouldn't it? If it weren't for yesterday... Honestly, Kurt would have never let Adam drag him out here. He would never be on his knees on a dock, eye level with a fifty year old man's erection. Better say nothing, then.

It takes Adam a little longer to come, and Kurt tries to tell himself that it's because of his age, not Kurt's prowess. When he's done, Adam lowers himself to his knees, then falls on his back. He kisses Kurt and he tastes like whiskey.

"That wasn't your first time, was it?"

Kurt snorts. "Did you want it to be my first time?"

Adam shrugs. "Some days."

That's it, for Kurt. He stands up, tucks himself back into his pants, does up his shirt, and gets ready to leave. "Well, thanks, I guess," he says, working to fix his hair. Adam doesn't respond, simply lying on the ground and staring up at the sky.

"Did that just happen?" Adam asks, almost as if talking to nobody. Kurt rolls his eyes.

"No, it didn't," Kurt says with a bit more bite than is necessary. "You can go back to your sick fantasies about me."

Adam hums and rolls over, dangerously close to the edge of the dock. Kurt stares at him, at this man who needed nothing more than a couple of hip wiggles and coy smiles to be dragged out here by a seventeen year old. Kurt shakes his head and walks away. He hopes he never becomes as disgusting and desperate as this man.

 _Whatever_ , he thinks as he makes his way back to the party. _He served his purpose. You got to sleep with your dad's best friends, just like you wanted, and he's so drunk he probably won't even remember it tomorrow._

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear the screams.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for a scene which may be construed as dub-con (the third scene labelled "August 12, 2008")
> 
> for details see end notes

**June 5, 2015**

It's been twenty minutes since Quinn, the last person before him, was sent in for her interview, and Kurt's starting to wonder if they've forgotten about him. He gets out of his chair and makes his way to the front of the room, opening the door and glancing down the hall. Nothing. Nobody.

He walks down the hall, glancing at the doors on either side until he finds himself face to face with the one labelled _Detective Blaine Anderson_. He sneers at the name. Who would have thought that preppy little Blaine Anderson would have grown up to wield a gun.

He knocks on the door, and Blaine's smooth tenor calls out. “Suzy? Is that you?”

Kurt opens the door, a scowl already forming on his face. “No, it's Kurt. You know, the only Hummel family member you have left to interview?”

Blaine glances up from behind his desk, but his eyes barely catch on Kurt's before he looks back down. “Oh, right. Yeah, I don't actually need anything from you.”

“What?” Kurt grits out, palms balling into fists.

“You heard me. You're free to go.”

“You're telling me I just spent two and a half hours bored out of my mind in that room waiting to be interviewed about my brother's murder and now it turns out I could have left hours ago?”

“Yep.” Blaine still doesn't look up, and it's starting to piss Kurt off.

“So, what-”

“Mr. Hummel,” Blaine says, sighing loudly, eyes still on the papers on his desk. “Please stop wasting my time.”

“What, like how you just wasted mine?”

“If there's any truth to what the tabloids say, I really didn't. Good day.”

Kurt gapes, anger pulsing through his veins. Who the hell does Blaine think he is, judging him like this? It wasn't like Kurt had ever really done anything to him. So, they fucked once and Kurt didn't call him. Whatever. Kurt had told him it was a one night thing. He didn't get why Blaine was being so-

“Fine,” Kurt says, glaring. “Good luck on your case, Officer Anderson.”

“It's Detective Anderson,” he hears just before he slams the door behind him.

He waits until he's outside of the precinct to text Tina and ask her to meet up. He is _not_ going to let the likes of Blaine fucking Anderson ruin the rest of his day. No siree.

**August 12, 2008**

He's buttoning up his pants and ignoring the boy lounging on the bed beside him.

He hates how good it was. How good Blaine was. This… it was just a revenge fuck. It wasn't supposed to be this good.

“You don't have to go,” Blaine says quietly, shifting so he's on his side. He's still naked, all olive skin and temptation, eye lashes long and lips pink. He's gorgeous and Kurt hates him for it.

“Sorry. I don't really like sticking around after.”

Blaine pouts. “Sebastian said you always sleep over with him...”

Kurt snorts. “Well, that's because I was dating Sebastian, though why I have no idea.”

“Yeah, he's kind of a dick,” Blaine says, chuckling. He starts tracing patterns on the sheets. “I would never cheat on you, you know.”

“God,” Kurt sighs, then turns so he's facing Blaine. “Look, Blaine. Tonight was fun. You were surprisingly good. But this was just a one-time thing, okay? I'm not looking for a relationship or anything.”

Blaine doesn't reply, just continues tracing patterns on the sheets. Kurt pulls his shirt over his head, then leans down and kisses Blaine's cheek.

“I'll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine whispers, so low Kurt barely hears him. “See you.”

**June 6, 2015**

He has a killer hangover, he sort of feels like he's going to die, and he's still angry as hell at Blaine Anderson.

“Morning sunshine,” Tina says, dropping a glass of water right next to his head. Kurt groans and rubs his forehead. “You know, I have to say, given all that's been happening I'm surprised it took you this long to call me up.”

“Yeah,” Kurt takes the water. “I guess yesterday just sort of pushed me over the edge.”

“Did it?” Tina sits on the edge of the bed. “Kurt, you're not grieving. Like, at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about last night, you were totally black out drunk, and all you could talk about was this stupid geek you fucked in high school. You didn't mention Finn once.”

“Finn's dead,” Kurt hates how empty the words sound. “There's nothing more to say.”

“I think it's fucked up,” she continues. “I mean, what, your brother dies but you only need a drink after running into an old flame?”

“What do you want from me here?” Kurt says, slamming the glass on the bedside table. “Do you want me to break down? Do you want me to scream, to throw things? Do you want me to cry in your arms for hours? That's not me. I don't… I don't do that. I'm not going to start because some psycho pushed my brother off a building.”

She stares at him, shaking her head. “You're keeping things bottled up. You need to _grieve_ -”

“No, I need my fucking brother,” he shouts, glaring at her. He can feel his eyes prickling and he shakes his head. “Forget it. I have to go.”

“Where?”

He pushes himself out of her bed. “Police precinct.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not going to let any issues that Blanderson may have with me affect his investigation of Finn's death,” he grabs his things off the bedside table. “Thanks for last night. I'll call you later.”

“Kurt, come on, we have to talk about this.”

“No, no we don't.” She doesn't seem to understand that she isn't that person for him. She can't be. She's always been his escape, his excuse to go out and drink and try new things. She's his way of getting away from his problems, she's not the solution to them. His mom was the solution, when he was a kid. His dad, when he was a teenager. And as an adult…

His jacket is thrown over the edge of the sofa and he grabs it, shrugs it on, and leaves her apartment.

**

“Mr. Hummel,” the receptionist greets, her eyes wide. “Hello.”

“Hi,” he smiles as widely as his anger allows. “Is Detective Anderson around? I really need to speak with him.”

“Yes, he's in his office, but-”

“Thank you very much,” he starts in the direction she pointed, smile falling. It doesn't take him long before he's standing in front of Blaine's office again.

He raps on the door aggressively, and is met with. “Suzy?”

“Guess again,” Kurt says, slamming the door open and walking in, arms crossed over his chest.

Blaine stares at him, eyes hardened and jaw clenched. “Oh. You again.”

“Yes, me again.”

“What do you want?” Blaine asks, doing that thing where he doesn't look at Kurt. “I'm very busy.”

“Working on my brother's murder, right? The case you refuse to involve me in?”

“I don't need your testimony,” Blaine says, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “I got everything I needed from your family. It wasn't a Hummel, don't worry, you're in the clear.”

“I'm not worried that you'll think that I killed him, I'm worried that I may know something but you're being too stubborn to let me help because you're still pissed that I didn't call you back in high school.”

Blaine's head shoots up, eyes cold as ice, “You think that's what this is?” he asks. “You think I'm mad because we fucked and you never called me? You really think I'm that petty that I can't let something that happened in high school go?”

“Yes, I do.”

Blaine scoffs. “Right, okay.”

“Let me ask you something,” Kurt says, putting his hands on Blaine's desk and leaning in. “Do you really think Finn was murdered?”

Blaine's anger fades into confusion. “What?”

“Finn, my brother. Do you really think someone killed him? Because if you did you'd be trying to get as much evidence as possible, not refusing to interview someone who may know something just because you're angry he didn't call you five years ago.”

Blaine runs a hand over his face. “Honestly? I don't really care if your brother was murdered or not.”

Kurt's jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Maybe he was murdered, maybe he wasn't. I don't really care.”

“Then why the hell did you take this case?! You knew it would put you in contact with me, so why-”

“Wow,” Blaine snorts. “You really are full of yourself, aren't you?”

“Wh- How _dare_ you-”

“I took this case because your mom is paying me twice as much as I make in a year to make it my top priority, okay? Believe it or not, the entire world does not revolve around you.”

Kurt doesn't know how to respond so he just stares, eyes wide.

“Are we through here?” Blaine asks, going back to his paperwork.

“I- _no_.”

“I think we are,” Blaine gestures to the door. “You know the way out.”

Kurt gapes, unsure of what to do, then after a few seconds he shakes his head and stalks out, far angrier than he was when he arrived.

**August 12, 2008**

_It wasn't that good_ he tells himself as he walks up the driveway to his house. It couldn't have been. Blaine had spent half the night asking if he was doing it right, if he was hurting him, should they go slower, _is this okay_ , over and over and over again.

It wasn't that good. It just felt good because of what he knew it would do to Sebastian. What he _knows_ it will do. He gives it a day before Sebastian is banging on his door, pissed out of his mind because “Blaine's virginity was supposed to bemine, Kurt. _Mine_.”

He snorts. Whatever. He's decided that it wasn't that good, and that's what he'll tell Sebastian. _Sorry I took him from you, but he wasn't that good anyway. If you want my sloppy seconds though…_

He smiles to himself. Yeah, that's exactly what he's going to say. Let that cheating bastard know you don't mess with Kurt Hummel.

There's two people standing in the front yard, and Kurt freezes where he's standing.

They can't see him yet, or if they can they don't care. They're embracing, warm and tender, the kind of embrace Kurt has only seen his father in with two women.

The man is his father, that much he can tell. The woman, though. He can't really see her, only the back of her head. Blonde; not Carole or his mother. He takes a step closer, and the couple part, the woman leaning up, pressing a lingering kiss to his father's cheek, and whispering, “Thanks for inviting me over. I had a great time tonight.”

He knows that voice. He's been hearing it ever since he was a child. His entire body goes cold as the woman turns around and -

It's Kitty. It's actually Kitty.

He can't believe it. He can't…

Kitty's eyes catch his and she gasps. Kurt shakes his head, unbelieving, then turns to his father whose face is pale as a ghost.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, then stalks past them, making sure to push past his dad by shoving his shoulder.

“Kurt,” but Kurt doesn't stop, just keeps going. He throws open the front doors and starts sprinting up the stairs, tears prickling his eyes.

“Kurt, come on!” it's his dad, following him inside. “Kurt, if you would let me explain-”

“Fuck you,” Kurt shouts, spinning on his heel to face his father. “Fuck you, she's _seventeen_. You disgusting pervert.”

“Kurt,” that's Kitty, standing beside his father, her hand on his arm. “Kurt, it's not what you think.”

“It's exactly what I think,” he continues shouting, face become red with anger. “My best friend and my father. The pedophile and the slut.”

“Now wait just a minute-”

“No, fuck you,” Kurt points at his dad. “And fuck you too,” he turns his gaze to Kitty. “I never want to speak to either of you ever again.”

“Kurt, please,” Kitty's crying now, and Kurt wants nothing more than to slap her right across the face. “If you'd just let us explain.”

“There's nothing to explain,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm done with you. With both of you.”

Without another word he turns around and sprints the rest of the way to his room, tears slipping down his cheeks, and slams the door to his bedroom. He won't let them see him cry. He won't.

**June 8, 2015**

Kurt's been weighing the pros and cons of telling his mom that the detective she hired to solve her best friend's murder doesn't actually give a shit about the case for two days now. After all, it's not like Blaine actually needs all that money. His parents are loaded, and Kurt knows for a fact that he went to NYU to study Criminology on a full scholarship, so it's not like he has student loans to pay off. Even if he did, he's the epitome of a trust fund baby. He'll be fine.

He picks up his phone, just like he has every other hour for the past two days, then sets it back down after a few seconds.

Wasn't he just giving Blaine shit for being petty? He doesn't need to stoop down to Blaine's level. No, he won't tell his mom. That's that.

Although…

There's a knock on his apartment door and Kurt heaves a sigh of relief. Finally, a distraction.

In the thirty seconds it takes him to get to the door whoever is on the other side has knocked five more times. So, Rachel or his mother. Maybe he doesn't want a distraction that badly after all.

He opens the door and, sure enough, there's Rachel, hair immaculate but make up a mess, with mascara running down her cheeks and her lipstick smeared. Kurt huffs as she pushes her way past him without so much as a hello and closes the door behind him.

“Rachel, what a wonderful surprise.”

“I can't take it anymore, Kurt,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “I can't take it, I've been trying to act like everything is okay, but it isn't. It's not okay, and it never will be okay, and I just have to tell someone because it's been eating me up.”

Kurt puts his hands on her shoulders and starts to lead her to his couch. “Alright, calm down. You know I can't deal with you when you get like this.”

“This isn't a _joke_ Kurt. This is serious.”

“Okay, okay. Here, just sit. Can I get you a drink?”

“Do you have vodka?”

Kurt groans. So it's one of those days. “Okay, no drinks.” Rachel pouts, then sniffles. “What's wrong, Rach.”

She sniffles some more, squares her shoulders and whispers. “I lied to the police.”

Kurt blinks, confused. “What?”

“My alibi. I lied to the police about my alibi,” she exhales sharply. “Oh, it feels so good to get it out.”

“Wait, hold on. What the hell are you talking about Rachel?”

She smooths down her hair. “Well, when Detective Anderson interviewed me, he asked me what I was doing when Finn was… well, pushed,” she holds a hand in front of her mouth, then takes a deep breath. “I told him that I was on my way to an impromptu _Mamma Mia_ rehearsal, but that… it wasn't true.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Why the fuck would you lie to the cops Rachel? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I couldn't tell them the truth,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I couldn't tell him, it was too awful, and what if it got out to the press? It could _ruin_ my Girl Next Door image.”

“You don't have that image,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Now, really. Why did you lie to the police?”

Rachel looks down at her lap and rearranges her skirt. “I was with Brody.”

“You were with -”

“Brody.”

“Brody your director for _Mamma Mia_ Brody? Married to Broadway legend Cassandra July Brody? Rachel, why the hell were you with Brody at eight in the morning?”

Rachel wipes at her eyes again. “Because we – we've been having an affair.”

Kurt feels his jaw fall open. “You've – with Brody?”

“Yes, with Brody.”

“Since when?!”

She blushes bright red. “Oh, you see. This is why I couldn't tell the police!”

“Rachel,” Kurt leans forward and takes her hands in his. “Since when have you been having an affair with Brody?”

She sniffles, “Since my _Mamma Mia_ audition.”

His eyes widen as the truth hits him like a ton of bricks, “Holy shit.”

“Do you understand?” she says. “Do you get why I can't tell the police? It'll ruin my image, everything I've worked so hard for-”

“Rachel,” Kurt interrupts her. “Did Brody give you that role because you slept with him?”

Rachel nods, lips pressed together. “Finn was the only one who knew,” she says quietly. “He saw Artie Abrams leaving my apartment a couple of years back.”

“Artie Abr- _Rachel_ ,” his eyes widen. “Have _all_ your roles -?”

“Yes, Kurt,” she shouts, more tears running down her cheeks. “Yes, I got all my roles because I fucked the director, okay? I'm not as amazing as I thought I was, nobody wanted to give me a role, and then Rupert, you remember Rupert, he told me if I let him fuck me for the entire run of the show he'd give me Fanny Brice. I needed that role, Kurt so I did and now… Now I have to do it every time.”

Kurt feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. “Rachel…”

“I don't know what to do, Kurt,” she cries. “At first I liked it, but I don't anymore and now all the directors _know_ so if I say no they won't give me any roles! And if I tell the police it'll be in a file, and that creepy website person will probably hack in and tell _everyone_ and-”

“Rach,” Kurt sits beside her. “You have to tell the police.”

“I can't, what if-”

“I know, but it'll be worse if you don't,” he rubs a hand over her back as she sobs. “What if it comes out, huh? What if Brody blabs, or any of your past directors blabs? What if Artie Abrams opens his mouth and says that Finn saw him leaving your apartment once?”

Rachel's jaw drops, “They'll think I did it,” she whispers. “To keep him quiet. They'll think… I didn't,” she shrieks. “Kurt, I swear I didn't. I didn't kill him. I couldn’t – I would _never -_ ”

“I know,” Kurt puts his arm around her and pulls her close. “I know you didn't.”

“My career will be ruined,” she sobs into his shoulder. “Everything I've worked for, everything I've put myself through… it'll all be for nothing. All I'll be remembered as is a literal fame whore.”

“Stop it,” Kurt says. “You are not- that's not what you are Rachel. Don't ever call yourself that.”

“I am, though,” she sobs. “I am, I sleep with them, and they give me roles, and I don't want to anymore Kurt, I don't, but I can't stop and- and-”

Kurt sighs, pulls her closer, and lets her cry into his chest.

**June 9, 2015**

Rachel sleeps over, meaning that when Kurt's phone starts ringing at around nine in the morning Kurt has already been up for over two hours. Turns out that Rachel finds the morning the best time to rehearse her _Mamma Mia_ songs. He's never letting her sleep over again.

It's an unknown number, so he lets it ring, wondering how soon he can kick Rachel out so he can actually get some sleep. He's not accustomed to 7AM wake ups.

His phone stops ringing, and about a minute later a notification appears informing him that he has a new voicemail. He groans but swipes the screen, entering his voicemail password and holding the phone to his ear. It's way too early for any of this and Rachel is _still singing_. This is exactly why he doesn't spend more time with his family.

“Kurt, this is Detective Anderson calling. Some new information about your brother's murder has come to light and I need to speak to you as soon as possible. Please call me back as soon as you get this so that we can arrange a meeting.” He lists off a number, which Kurt doesn't bother to scribble down.

Rolling his eyes, he hangs up the phone and tosses it to the side. “Rachel!” he shouts. “I have to go out.”

“What?” she asks, popping her head out from the bathroom, where she's been for the better part of an hour.

“I have to go out, which means that you need to leave.”

“No, I can't leave yet. I look a mess.”

She doesn't – she looks flawless, as always.

“Sucks. I'm leaving in five minutes, and when I say I'm leaving in five minutes I mean you need to be out of here in five minutes.”

“Really, there's no need for such abruptness. I'm still in a very emotionally fragile state from our heart to heart last night.”

“Which is why you managed to get up at seven in the morning to belt out 'Lay All Your Love On Me,' right?” he shakes his head. “I'm leaving in five minutes and I don't trust you alone in my apartment, so you need to be ready to leave when I do.”

She huffs, but disappears back into the bathroom. Kurt shuts himself in his own room and starts looking through his closet. She won't be ready to go for at least another half hour anyway; there's no rush.

**

It's forty-five minutes before they're finally out of his apartment, Rachel flouncing off in the direction of her apartment and saying a very loud goodbye which draws the attention of multiple passersby. Kurt groans but hugs her goodbye anyway, already seeing the headline on their website tomorrow morning – _Cousins_ _Kurt Hummel and Rachel Berry find comfort in each other in these tragic times. Click here for further information_.

Once she's gone he hops in a taxi and heads to the police precinct, the frustration he's felt since this morning building with every passing second. He so badly wishes that this whole ordeal could be over. First Rachel deciding, for whatever reason, that he's the person she needed to unload her deepest, darkest secret on, and now Blanderson asking him to come in after telling him multiple times that he doesn't need him involved in the investigation in any way. 

He pays the cabbie and enters the precinct, smiling at the secretary who looks surprised to see him again.

“Mr. Hummel,” she greets. “How can I help you?”

“I'm here to see Detective Anderson,” he says. “He in?”

“Oh, yes. Let me just page him-”

“No need. I know where to go.”

“Mr. Hummel, please, just wait-”

“Thanks!”

He stalks down the hall, hands clenched at his sides. He reaches Blaine's office soon enough and gives his door three aggressive knocks before pushing it open.

“Suzy, I told you to just-”

“You're un-fucking-believable, you know that?”

Blaine's body tenses for a moment, then relaxes once more. “Mr. Hummel. You got my message I assume?”

“Some 'new' information came to light?” he spits, leaning his hands on Blaine's desk. “Regarding me, I assume? Information I could have told you had you actually done your fucking job and interviewed me like you did for the rest of my family?”

“If you could have a seat?” Blaine gestures to a chair behind Kurt, far too relaxed considering how angry Kurt is.

“No, I cannot have a fucking seat.”

Blaine shrugs. “Very well,” he straightens up in the chair once more, as if going for a more professional look. “You don't look in the mood for niceties,” Kurt scoffs and pushes himself away from the desk, rolling his eyes. “So I'll just tell you why I called you here. We've received intel that you were the last person to see Finn Hudson alive.”

Kurt's jaw drops. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he says. “Wow. See, that's something you would have known a fucking week ago if you'd just _done your damn job_.”

“So you admit that you were in the presence of Finn Hudson the night before his murder.”

“Yes,” Kurt says, crossing his arms over his chest. “He came over to yell at me about dropping out of Santana's wedding. We made plans to have lunch with my mom.”

“I see,” Blaine purses his lips and takes out a piece of paper, scribbling something down. “Well, seeing as this information was not in your original statement-”

“ _What_ original statement?” Kurt asks. “You didn't let me _give_ a statement!”

“Regardless, you withheld this information from the police officer in charge of this investigation-”

“Why the hell would I withhold that information, huh? If you had let go of a high school grudge for two seconds and actually been a professional about this-”

“There isn't enough proof to arrest you, of course, but that being said-”

“Wait,” Kurt holds up a hand. “Wait a minute. _Arrest me_? You think- You think I killed him?!”

“That's private information Mr. Hummel, information I cannot disclose to civilians, but for the time being I'm going to have to ask you not to leave the city.”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Kurt says.

“That is not for you to decide Mr. Hummel.”

“Will you _stop_?” Kurt shouts. “Stop with the Mr. Hummel, and the professionalism, and all that crap, okay? Just stop and admit that you fucked up, you should have taken my testimony, and now I could go to fucking jail because you're still pissed that I fucked you when we were seventeen and never called you back.”

Blaine's jaw clenches and he narrows his eyes. “I would be very careful about how you talk to me Mr. Hummel.”

“Why? You going to arrest me for telling the truth? Detective Anderson is a terrible cop,” he shouts, then extends his hands. “Put me in handcuffs.”

Blaine narrows his eyes.

“Don't leave the city,” he says. “That's all I needed to tell you.”

“Really,” Kurt shakes his head. “You're still not going to take my testimony?”

“I already have everything I need.”

“From my neighbor, who hates my guts and is hoping this will finally get me out of the building,” Kurt stands up, then points an accusing finger at Blaine. “I could take serious legal action against you here.”

“No you couldn't,” Blaine says.

“Oh yeah? Fucking obstruction of law! You're telling me I'm a suspect of my own brother's murder, and yet you're not even going to let me defend myself. I'm pretty sure that's not good policing.”

“Mr. Hummel, you were in an altercation with Mr. Hudson the night before his passing. You are also the last person to have seen him alive, and you were the last family member to arrive on the scene.”

“That's because I was the last person they called!”

“I've already said everything I have to say. You are free to go Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief, then turns to leave, honestly worried that if he spends one more minute in this office he'll punch Blaine. He does a one-eighty at the last minute and says, as calmly as possible. “For the record, I loved Finn. He's the only member of that stupid family that I actually loved. That's what we were fighting about, the night before he died. How I was going to do Santana's bachelorette party for him, and he wanted me to do it for her. I had absolutely zero motive to kill him. And if you take me to court on this, I will fucking sue the pants off this police department and make sure you never, I repeat, _never_ , work as a police officer again.”

When Blaine doesn't respond, Kurt scoffs and finally leaves the room, slamming the door as loudly as possible on his way out.

**August 12, 2008**

“Wait,” Blaine whispers, putting a hand over Kurt's and stopping him from unbuckling his belt. “Can we just… slow down for a minute?”

“Mmm, why?” Kurt leans forward and kisses the corner of Blaine's jaw. It's annoyingly well defined. “You're so hot. I don't want to stop.”

“I-” Blaine whimpers as Kurt nips at his jaw. “I've never done this before.”

Kurt wants to roll his eyes and say “Duh!” but instead he gives Blaine's jaw a kitten lick, then cups the back of his neck and pulls him into a deep kiss.

“I don't want to stop,” he whispers against Blaine's lips. He pushes their lips together a little more forcefully, ignoring the soft _swoop_ his stomach gives when Blaine kisses back. He's hesitant, has been from the start, and by the way things are going Kurt can tell that this whole thing is going to take a lot longer than he was anticipating.

His hand goes back to Blaine's belt, and this time Blaine lets him unbuckle it. Kurt grins against Blaine's mouth as he pulls the belt out of the loops and drops it on the floor next to the bed. He kisses Blaine harder, moving his hands down to Blaine's waist and maneuvering him so that they're lying down, Kurt on top of Blaine.

As he pries Blaine's mouth open with his tongue, Kurt moves his hands towards the middle of Blaine's hips, one hand going to the button on his jeans while the other moves lower, firmly cupping Blaine's half-hard cock.

Blaine's hips twitch up, and then he's gone, rolling out from underneath Kurt and staring at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

“I-” he purses his lips tight, blushing and looking down at the bed. Kurt has to stop himself from huffing impatiently.

Slowly, he shuffles forward until he and Blaine are face to face once more, both on their sides. Kurt reaches out and runs a hand down Blaine's face. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks, trying to soothe him. His hand comes to rest against the side of Blaine's neck and he can feel Blaine's pulse racing under his palm.

Blaine chews on his bottom lip, eyes flickering between Kurt's eyes and his lips. “I didn't even think you liked me,” he whispers. “You always treated me like a nuisance. Like I was just Sebastian's annoying, nerdy friend who you were only putting up with for Sebastian.”

 _That's because Sebastian was my boyfriend and yet all he could talk about was you and your stupid huge eyes and your stupid pouty lips and your stupid virgin ass_. “I like you,” he says instead, pulling Blaine in for another kiss. “In case you couldn't tell.”

“But,” Blaine pushes him away gently. “But I mean, do you _like_ me? Or do you just-”

Kurt brings a finger up and rests it against Blaine's lips. “Don't,” he says, shaking his head. “Don't make it more complicated than it needs to be. I like you, and you obviously like me,” he gives the bulge in Blaine's jeans a significant look. “Isn't that all that matters?”

Blaine shrugs, ducking his head. “I guess I just always imagined my first time being with someone I loved.”

For a moment, a short, brief, moment, Kurt feels guilt creeping into his gut. It passes, however, when he remembers Sebastian staring at him over that twink's shoulder, not even bothering to stop fucking him at the sight of his boyfriend. As he remembers Sebastian's drunken rambles about “If Blaine ever let me fuck him, holy shit Kurt, I would so cheat on you. I'm not even kidding, and I don't even feel bad. Taking Blaine's virginity – shit. I would be the luckiest guy in the world.”

“How about it being with a friend?” Kurt suggests, making his voice soft. “Someone who likes you, a lot, and is very attracted to you. Someone who'll take care of you and make sure it's good.”

Blaine sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, clearing considering it. He releases his lip, wet and tempting, and nods.

“Okay,” he agrees. Kurt grins triumphantly and pulls him in for another heated kiss.

This time when he lowers his hands to Blaine's crotch Blaine doesn't push him away.

**June 10, 2015**

Kurt doesn't leave the house all day.

He wakes up at ten thirty, takes one glance at the date on his phone, turns around and goes back to sleep.

When he actually gets up it's two thirty and the first thing he does is pour himself a rather generous glass of whiskey.

By five he's pretty sure he's never been this drunk in his life. He wants to call his mom and see how she's doing, but he keeps messing up his phone passcode.

By six he's passed out in bed.

By eleven he's back up, leaning over his toilet and wondering what the hell could have possessed him to drink so damn much. When he glances at his phone to check the time he sees a notification from his calendar and runs back to the bathroom to throw up again.

He curls up in bed, cradling his phone, tears running down his cheeks as he forces himself to read the notification over and over again until the words blurr together and he manages to fall asleep.

_Lunch with Finn and Mom! **June 10 – 12:30-14:30**_

**June 11, 2015**

He's woken up by his phone ringing, and it must trigger something in him because he doesn't think he's ever shot up and grabbed his phone so quickly in his life. He doesn't even check the caller ID before swiping and saying, “Hello?” his voice far more wobbly than he intended it to be.

“Kurt?” _Fuck_. His dad. “Good, you're up. You start today.”

Kurt blinks, heart still racing. “I- what? What are you talking about?”

“It's your first day at Hummel Enterprise. Be here in an hour for orientation. And, for the love of god, wear something appropriate.” He hangs up before Kurt has the chance to.

If he wasn't so damn hungover he would shout in frustration.

**

Blondie the secretary greets him at the front doors of Hummel Enterprise exactly one and a half hours later, a clipboard clutched to his chest and sweat forming on his forehead.

“Mr. Hummel,” he squeaks as Kurt brushes past him and into the building. “Your father has been asking about you. I don't know if you remember me-”

“Mhmm, yeah, you let me in last time I was here,” Kurt says, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. The young man blushes and fiddles with his glasses.

“Yes, of course, that's what I meant. Anyway, your paperwork is all filled out, so if you could just sign your name-”

“If I don't sign will I be fired?”

Blondie doesn't seem to know how to answer, which makes Kurt roll his eyes and keep walking towards the elevator.

“It looks like you've been assigned to the security department. A fantastic department. My brother works there, he says the woman in charge is quite amazing. He's-”

“Yeah, I don't really care,” Kurt says, spinning on his heel and cutting Blondie off. “Where do I sign?”

Blondie blinks at him for a few seconds, then holds out the clipboard and points to a line near the bottom of the first page while holding out a pen in his other hand. Kurt takes the pen and signs with a flourish.

“Right, um,” Blondie clears his throat. “Perfect. Well, you're all set, and I'll just page Miss Del Monico and you'll get started on your orientation.”

Kurt freezes as Blondie hurries over to the front desk and starts to dial numbers on one of the telephones. “Del Monico?” he asks, making sure he's heard correctly. “As in Terri Del Monico?”

“Yes, of course, she's head of the security department,” Blondie says, holding the phone up to his ear. “Hello, Miss Del Monico?” he talks into the phone. “It's Chandler. Mr. Hummel is he- Yes, of course. I'll send him right up,” he nods then looks at Kurt. “Twenty-fifth floor. She'll meet you there.”

Kurt nods and turns to the elevator, ice settled in his stomach.

What the fuck is his dad playing at.

He gets on the elevator along with several other employee's, all of whom stare at him with wide eyes and slack jaws. Kurt ignores them, already hearing the argument that will no doubt ensue with his father in mere hours.

His phone buzzes just as he reaches the twenty-fifth floor. He takes it out, but only has time to catch a glimpse of what he thinks is Rachel's name before someone clears their throat. He looks up and sees Terri Del Monico standing in front of him, hands clasped behind her back, looking far more put together than the last time he saw her, five years ago.

“Mr. Hummel,” she says. She doesn't extend a hand to greet him. “So wonderful for you to finally join us. You know, here at Hummel Enterprises we condone punctuality.”

“Yeah, sorry I-”

“And we keep our personal phones off during work hours. Common courtesy, of course,” she says, tone clipped. She glances down at his phone, which he quickly turns off and stuffs back in his pocket. “Excellent, I see you're a fast learner. Well, come along. We'll have to rush through your orientation seeing as you were half an hour late.”

She turns on her heel and begins to walk down a long hallway. Kurt hurries to keep pace with her, heart pounding in his chest, “You know in my defense,” he says, trying to sound calm. “I wasn't aware this would be my first day on the job. I was kind of hoping for a bit more of a reprieve, since, you know, my brother just died and all.”

“That's no excuse,” she says without turning. “Mr. Hummel Senior was back in the office the day after your step-brother's death. I was back to work the day after my husband killed himself. Life happens, but here at Hummel Enterprises we expect a higher caliber of work, which means that work always comes before life,” she points to an open room. “That is the computer room, where we monitor the cameras throughout the building. Those who work there ensure that everything and everyone is exactly where they should be at all times.”

“Okay, one,” Kurt says. “That is creepy as hell. Two, my dad is a workaholic and also a heartless asshole, so it doesn't surprise me he was back a day after Finn died. Three, Finn was my brother, not my step-brother.”

She waves a hand. “No need to get bogged down with semantics. You should know, however, that I will not tolerate any mean spirited talk about Burt Hummel in this department. That man got me where I am today, and he has afforded my daughter many wonderful opportunities. I owe him my life and I will not have him disrespected under my watch.”

Kurt scoffs. “Yeah, I'm sure he's done tons of stuff to your daughter. Sorry, I mean _for_ your daughter.”

Terri sends a death glare over her shoulder. “Burt Hummel is a wonderful man. He could have dismissed me after Adam died, but he didn't. Instead he promoted me so that I could better take care of Kitty. Kitty and I would be on the streets if it weren't for him. As I said, I will not have him disrespected.”

Kurt wants to tell her all about his dad and Kitty, but the part of his brain shouting _you fucked her husband right before he killed himself_ doesn't let him. Instead he squares his shoulders and nods.

“Sorry ma'am,” he grits out. “No disrespect meant.”

“I'm sure,” she rolls her eyes, continuing her walk down the hall until she reaches the last door to the left, which she slips into. Kurt follows her. “This is my office,” she says. “Well, actually this is your office. My office is through that door.”

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yes, didn't you know? You've been hired as my assistant. And as your first official duty I would like you to go down to the fifteenth floor and get me a steaming hot cup of coffee. Half a cream, half a sugar.”

Kurt glances at the coffee machine prominently displayed in her office. “Why can't I just make you a coffee here?”

Terri grins. “Because you fucked my dead husband, and now I'm your boss. Get used to it sweetie.”

Kurt stares, blinks, then blinks again, then blinks harder. He must have dreamt that. There's no way she…

“Oh, what, you think I didn't know?” she asks, walking toward her own coffee machine, a Keurig from the looks of it, and starting to prepare a cup. “Please. The way you two flounced out together, the entire party knew. Even your dad knows. Of course, that was the point, wasn't it?”

Kurt keeps staring, unable to believe what he's hearing.

“Except then Adam had his 'accident' and suddenly nobody seemed to remember you two leaving together. How strange is that?” she shakes her head. “Serves him right anyway, fucking slutty little twinks without even trying to hide it.”

She picks up her mug and blows away some of the steam.

Kurt cheeks flush and he stutters, “I didn't- I wasn't- He drank too much, that's why he-”

“Oh, honey, no,” Terri says, placing her mug on his desk. She looks incredibly condescending and Kurt would be angry if he weren't so baffled by the situation. “I'm not assuming you killed him. Honestly, if you had killed him I would be treating you like royalty, not like an unpaid intern.”

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up. “You- You wanted him dead?”

She scoffs. “What, did you think you were special or something? The only exception? The one twink he just couldn't keep his hands off? Please. There were dozens of boys, just like you,” she rolls her eyes. “Honestly that bastard did me a favor by literally drinking himself to death,” she picks her mug back up and takes a dainty sip. “Plus, his death is what made me head of security, so look how great that worked out for everyone.”

Kurt swallows thickly. “You know,” he says, going for casual. “Sometimes people kill someone and try and make it look like a suicide.”

She grins and it sends shivers down to his soles, “So, first you think I'm accusing you of murder, and now you're accusing me of murder? Hell of a first day,” she continues grinning taking a step forward. “Honey,” her voice drips with poison. “I _wish_ I had killed him. The thought of being the one who got rid of that disgusting excuse of a human being for good? It keeps me up at night,” he could swear her teeth are glinting in the dim light of the room. “But no,” her face melts into a pout. “Sadly his alcoholism beat me to it. Now, are you done with the interrogation and ready to actually do your job? Or are there any more murders you'd like to accuse me of?”

“Right,” Kurt says as she brings the mug to her lips and takes another sip. “Coffee from the fifteenth floor. Half a cream, half a sugar.”

Terri grins. “Great listening skills. I can just tell that you and I are going to get on splendidly.”

She continues drinking her coffee as she disappears into her office and Kurt storms out into the hall, still shaken to his core about the entire encounter.

**August 14, 2008**

Kurt's been staring at his wall for almost an hour when there's a knock on the door. He turns to find his dad opening the door and quickly slipping through it. Disgust fills him to the brim.

“We need to talk,” Burt says. Kurt scoffs.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Burt crosses his arms over his chest. “I'm covering it up,” he says, voice cold and hard. “Nobody will even mention what happened between you and Adam at that party. For all they know you were never even there.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“You think I want people thinking you did this? You think I want my son in prison? Give me a break, Kurt.”

“Wow, so loving,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Are we done?”

“No,” Burt says. “You are also never to speak of it again. To anybody. You weren't there that night. Adam stumbled out into the dock and, drunk out of his mind, accidentally slipped and fell into the water. I heard his scream when he slipped and ran out and found him. The end.”

“Whatever,” Kurt says. “I was just giving you a taste of your own medicine. I have no reason to talk about it again anyway.”

Burt sighs. “Kurt, about that. You don't understand-”

“What? That you're a disgusting pervert who's cheating on an amazing woman with a seventeen year old slut?”

“Don't talk about Kitty that way,” Burt points his finger.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disrespect your little girlfriend,” Kurt shoves himself off the bed and stalks past his dad. “I'm going over to Tina's.”

“You and I aren't finished talking.”

“Yeah, Dad. We are.”

**June 11, 2015**

It feels like years rather than days before Kurt is finally allowed to leave on his break. He practically runs to the elevator and presses the button for the tenth floor, where he knows the cafeteria is. As he waits for the elevator he turns his phone back on, eager to text Tina and tell her about the fucked up, weird as hell first day he's had.

As soon as his phone is on it blows up. He's got over fifty unread text messages, twenty-three missed calls and several voicemails. He clicks on the call button and finds that every call is from Rachel. Hitting the voicemail button he puts the phone to his ear, steps into the elevator, and presses the button for the tenth floor.

“Kurt, what the fuck is with this message you sent me? Call me back.”

He frowns.

“Seriously Kurt, pick up your phone and answer your messages, what the hell.”

“Kurt, I'm freaking the fuck out you need to call me _now_.”

“I know it was you Kurt, you're the only person who knew, so stop fucking around and call me!”

“Kurt. Kurt, please. Please call me back, this isn't funny. _Kurt_.”

“I'm seriously freaking out you need to call me right now, I don't know who else to talk to.”

“It's a joke, right? Ha. Ha-ha. Hilarious joke Kurt. You're so funny.”

“Kurt. Call me back. Right now. _Call me_.”

He hangs up without deleting any of the messages, and instantly dials Rachel's number without checking his texts, assuming they'll be most of the same thing.

Rachel picks up on the first ring. “Fucking finally, what the hell Kurt, you're normally glued to your phone why weren't you picking up?!”

“I'm sorry, Dad sprung my first day on me and my boss is fucked in the head and – whatever, what the hell were all your messages about? You're kind of freaking me out Rach.”

The elevator door opens and Kurt steps out, heading towards the entrance to the cafeteria.

“You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking.”

“No, I'm not. Just tell me what happened. Something about a message I sent you?”

Rachel let's out a hysterical laugh. “Now you're playing dumb. This is great, this is absolutely great, this is just _perfect_ ,” she screams the last word into the phone and Kurt winces.

“Rachel, will you just tell me what's going on?”

“Right, because you don't know right? Okay well, _Kurt_ , what's going on is that I got a message from an unknown number saying that I needed to watch my back or they'll tell everybody about me sleeping with my directors to get parts.”

Kurt stops in his tracks. “What?”

“I know it was you,” she screeches. “I thought we were finally getting past all this family rivalry stuff and becoming close like we used to be, but I guess not huh? You just couldn't help it. Your career as a model tanked, so now you're making sure my career goes down with it. Well, _fuck you_.”

“What the- Rachel, you just said you got the text from an unknown number. Why the hell would I text you from an unknown number?”

“Because you're a psycho, that's why! Look, I know it was you, you and Finn were the only two who knew about that and it _obviously_ wasn't Finn.”

Kurt pinches his nose. “I don't know what to tell you Rach. I honestly don't.”

“Why don't you tell me that you'll keep your mouth fucking shut and stay the hell away from me.”

“Rach, come on, don't do this.” She hangs up halfway through his sentence and he sighs, pocketing his phone and finally getting in line for the cafeteria.

What the hell is with today? As soon as he has his food and is sitting at one of the cafeteria tables he texts Tina asking if she's free tonight. He needs to get really, really drunk.

**June 16, 2015**

When Kurt wakes up on Saturday knowing he doesn't have to go into work he pretty much screams his happiness from the rooftops. Or, he would, if he weren't supremely hungover.

He's only spent a week at Hummel Enterprises, but it's been enough to know that being a full time secretary/assistant is not his calling. Hell, working 9-5 period isn't his calling. By the time five o'clock rolls around every day Kurt basically bolts it out of there, hops in a cab, and crawls into bed, where he stays until about 8AM the next morning.

The only exception had been on Monday, after which he'd gotten spectacularly drunk with Tina, only to be dropped off at his house with the explicit instructions not to call her again until he had dealt with his shit. “Since you're obviously not going to talk to me about it,” she'd said. Whatever. Not like Kurt really had time to get drunk anyway, what with his insane boss crawling up his ass every two minutes and reminding him of the fact that he fucked her husband so he might as well be her slave.

He wanted to talk to a higher up about getting transferred to another department, but the higher up was his dad and he preferred Psycho Del Monico over his dad any day.

Now he's officially finished his first week, and honestly that whole getting arrested thing that Blaine was talking about isn't sounding so bad. After all, if he's in prison he won't have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work and he won't be tempted into buying things he can't afford. Right?

He pulls himself out of bed around noon, gets dressed and tries to think of something to do. He doesn't feel like lying around the house – too much time alone and his thoughts start going to bad places. He can't call Tina because he doesn't want to talk about Finn (again, bad places), and now he can't call Rachel because she thinks he's blackmailing her.

Making a split decision, he gets dressed, grabs his keys and wallet and leaves the apartment. His neighbor, the one who ratted him out to the cops, is taking his garbage out, and Kurt makes sure to glare at him extra hard this morning. Although maybe he should thank him. After all, if he ends up in jail it'll be because of him, and he's already established jail wouldn't actually be that bad. It would at least get his dad off his back once and for all, plus he'd never have to see Terri Del Monico again.

He's been in a cab for about five minutes when his phone starts to ring. It's Santana, which can't mean anything good.

“Hello?”

“Holy shit, a civil answer? I don't think I've gotten better than 'what do you want' in _years_.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop trying to piss me off. What do you want?”

“There it is!”

“Santana.”

“Fine, fine. I'm just calling to confirm whether or not you're coming to the wedding.”

Kurt frowns. “Wait, you're still having your wedding?”

“Uh, obviously,” Santana says. “We've sort of been planning it for a year and a half.”

“But Finn just died.”

“Yeah.”

“Like, literally, Santana. He literally just died.”

“Yeah, I'm fucking aware of that Kurt,” she bites back.

“So, your brother just died, and you're just gonna go ahead with your wedding? Have the happiest day of your life be celebrated less than a month after your fucking brother died?”

“Are you fucking coming or what? Jesus Christ.”

Kurt sighs, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah I'm fucking coming. If anything hearing Marley's ridiculously boring vows might get me out of the funk I've been in.”

“Don't, Kurt. That's my fiancee.”

“Mhmm, who you love very much, I know, I know.”

“Whatever, asshole. I don't know why I even bother with you.”

Kurt catches sight of one of Rachel's _Mamma Mia_ posters on the side of a building and he says. “Hey, Santana.”

“What? I'm done with this conversation now.”

“Yeah, just. Have you gotten any weird texts lately?”

She pauses for a couple of seconds. “No. Why?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Nothing, I just. Rachel got this weird threatening text the other day. She thought I sent it.”

“Did you?”

“No, of course not,” Kurt scoffs. “Never mind, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“What did it say?”

“What did what say?”

“The text, idiot. What did the text say?”

Kurt chews on his bottom lip, deliberating. “It threatened to reveal this secret Rachel has. One that only I know. Well, I mean, Finn knew, but.”

“But Finn's dead.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

They're both quiet for a couple of seconds, then Santana says. “You don't think this has anything to do with the website, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, 'one down, four to go'? You don't think… I mean, you don't think someone's actually trying to kill us off, right?”

“No, of course not,” Kurt says immediately, “What purpose would it serve?”

“I don't know,” Santana says. “A lot of people really hate the Hummels.”

“Good thing you're a Lopez, huh?”

“Fuck off. See, this is why we never have actual conversations, cause you're such a fucking-”

“Such a fucking what?”

She exhales sharply. “Never mind, forget it. I'm being paranoid anyway. Fucking Sam's been getting in my head.”

“You've been talking to Sam?”

“Yeah, you see, he's in this little thing called _my wedding_.”

“Right, right, your fake wedding to your boring fake fiancée, which totally isn't just about money and politics, right?”

“Whatever Kurt.”

“Keep me posted on the threatening texts.”

“Fuck off.”

Kurt stares at his phone for a couple of seconds after he hangs up, shaking his head. His half-sister, always the charmer.

“Sir?” the taxi driver says. “We're here.”

Kurt thanks him and makes sure to give him a generous tip, then steps out of the cab and walks into the police station.

**

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Kurt grins at the scowl on Blaine's face. “Isn't it obvious?” he asks, holding out his arms. “I'm here to help clear my name.”

“Are you bipolar or something? Didn't you storm out of this place last week screaming about how I'd rue the day or whatever?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Do you want my help or what?”

“No, I don't need your help. Also, stop coming in here unannounced. It's pissing me off.”

With another eye roll Kurt settles into the chair opposite Blaine's desk. “So, any new leads?”

“I'm not at liberty to discuss,” Blaine says, eyes narrowing in obvious annoyance.

“Am I still your number one suspect?” he wiggles his eyebrows, which makes Blaine narrow his eyes.

“That's classified.”

“Because if I am,” Kurt stretches his legs out and crosses his arms over his chest. “You haven't done a very good job at trying to prove my guilt. Or my innocence. You probably should have had me here at least four or five times in the past week.”

Blaine's jaw sets. “Are you implying I don't know how to do my job?”

Kurt shrugs. “I mean, if the boot fits.”

Blaine groans, then folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “Fine. Mr. Hummel, thank you for coming by. I have a few questions to ask you.”

“Who, moi?” Kurt flutters his eyelashes. “Please, by all means.”

“You were in the presence of Finn Hudson the night before he was murdered, correct?”

“That is correct,” Kurt says, straightening up in his chair and looking Blaine directly in the eye.

“Where were you two?”

“At my apartment.”

“Was anybody else present?”

“Not in the apartment, but my neighbor saw us while Finn was leaving.”

“Why was Mr. Hudson at your apartment?”

“He was mad at me for pulling out of Santana's wedding. I agreed to do the bachelorette party so that he wouldn't be so mad, and he was disappointed because he wanted me to do the bachelorette party because I wanted to. Then we made plans to meet up on June 10th, and he left.”

“When Mr. Hudson left, were the two of you on bad terms?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No. I mean. Maybe? He was still kind of mad at me about the wedding, and I was kinda frustrated because now I had to do the bachelorette party but we hugged before he left so… No, I think we were on good terms.”

Blaine raises both eyebrows. “So, yes you were on good terms?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. That's all I need from you, thank you.”

Kurt grins as Blaine goes back to going through his paperwork. “So how'd I do?”

Blaine glares at him. “You did well, thank you. I already had all the information you just gave me, but still. You didn't contradict your neighbor's story, so that's something.”

“Yeah, well, that's because I have nothing to hide,” Kurt relaxes into the chair and stretches his arms behind his back. “Have you looked into the website?”

“What?”

“You know, that stupid 'What are the Hummels up to today' website. The one that posted an article that just said 'One Down, Four to Go' the day after Finn died.”

“Oh,” Blaine clears his throat. “Yeah that was a dead end.”

“What? Why?”

Blaine looks down at his papers, but Kurt can see a hint of pink darkening his cheeks. “Because we couldn't trace the original poster of the article. Or of the site for that matter.”

“Wait a minute,” Kurt leans forward. “You're telling me that nobody in the entire New York City police department could find the identity of who is behind a _gossip rag_?”

“Whoever they are have amazing technology skills,” Blaine says. “They have it set up so every post seems to come from multiple IP addresses, and those addresses are different with every post. It would take years to track down every address from every post.”

“Why don't you just track the IP addresses from the threatening post?”

“We did. Dead ends.”

“Hmm,” Kurt falls back into the chair. “Maybe you're better at your job then I thought.”

Blaine snorts. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Kurt shrugs. “Take it as you will. So, any suspects other than me?”

“I told you, that's classified.”

Kurt sighs, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. He would buy a new one, but, well, he's cut off. “Why would someone kill Finn,” he wonders aloud, looping the thread around his finger. “Everybody loved Finn. It was impossible not to. Even my mom loved Finn. Fuck, she loved him enough to start this whole mess. I just don't...”

The office is silent for a few moments. Then Blaine says. “Kurt, have you… Have you spoken to anyone about this?”

Kurt frowns, “What do you mean?”

“You know, like a counsellor or something. The rest of your family has.”

“Well, I'm not exactly on the same wavelength as the rest of my family, so.” He shrugs. “No, I haven't. I don't feel like I need to.”

“You just suffered a tragedy. You should talk to someone.”

“Why do you care?” Kurt asks, trying to keep the bite out of his tone. “For god's sake, you didn't even want to interview me when this all started. Why do you care if I've gone to see a therapist or not?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don't,” his lips turn up in the slightest smirk. “Just want to know if I should suggest court appointed therapy when I accuse you of Finn's murder.”

Kurt can't help it. He barks out a laugh. “I knew you thought it was me,” he says, chuckling.

“Honestly?” Blaine says, shaking his head. “I don't. But my captain is breathing down my neck and your mom keeps calling every other hour. I need a suspect, and right now you fit the bill. I'm sorry about that. Really though, I don't think you killed him.”

Kurt smiles, ducking his head. “Well, thanks. Considering how much you hate me that means a lot.”

“I don't hate you,” Blaine says, shuffling some papers around, eyes on his desk.

“Uh, yeah, you do. You're mad because I didn't call you back in high school, which is why you didn't want to interview me, and why you're so mad that I keep showing up here.”

“I'm mad you keep showing up here because I can't get any work done when you're here.”

“Because I'm so distracting, right?” Kurt teases. Blaine snorts.

“Yeah, something like that.”

They fall into silence once more.

Blaine clears his throat. “I don't hate you because of what happened in high school,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet Kurt's. “That part wasn't actually that big of a deal. Whatever, so my first time wasn't what I thought it would be, big deal. It was what happened after that kinda sucked, and I guess I've been blaming you for it because… I don't know, I didn't want to blame myself.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “What happened after?”

Blaine heaves a heavy sigh. “You know what, this is silly. I'm supposed to be working, not divulging my life story.”

“Take a break,” Kurt grins. “I've been told I'm a good listener.”

Blaine cocks an eyebrow skeptically. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Because it's bullshit, obviously. Seriously though, if you've been blaming me for everything that went wrong in your life then I think I have the right to know what it is exactly that went wrong.”

Blaine stares at him for a couple of seconds, then slumps in his chair. “Not like I'm gonna get any work done while you're here anyway,” he grumbles. “Fine. Okay, the saga of Blaine Anderson.”

He stretches and Kurt gets more comfortable, a little excited. It's the first time he's been excited for something or, really, felt anything other than anger, frustration, or apathy, since Finn's death.

“Alright,” Blaine starts. “This isn't really as interesting as I'm sure you're thinking it is.”

“Get on with it Anderson.”

“Jeez, okay,” Blaine sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, then says. “Okay, I guess I should start with the night you came over. Obviously you know how that night went.”

“Yes, that night had a happy ending,” Kurt says, wiggling his eyebrows. He thinks, though, about walking in on his dad and his then best friend. That night didn't actually have a happy ending.

“Yeah, not so much for me,” Blaine says, as though reading Kurt's mind. “After you left I was… well, I was upset. I had all these ideas about how my first time was supposed to go, and none of them really fit how it actually went. I… I kind of fell into a bit of a funk after that. I kept thinking about how it should have been a certain way, how I should have stopped it, all that stuff, you know how it is.”

Kurt doesn't, actually. His first time was exactly how he thought it would be.

“Anyway, so a couple of days passed and I'd convinced myself that the reason it didn't go that well is because it was a one-time thing. If I could turn it into a relationship then everything would be okay. Which is when I called Sebastian.”

“And you told him about us,” Kurt remembers. “He gave you my number, then he texted me calling me a slut.”

Blaine winces. “He did? I didn't know that.”

“Whatever,” Kurt says. “He's the one who fucked around on me, so.”

“Yeah,” Blaine coughs. “Um, so anyway. I texted you and you never texted me back. I should have known you wouldn't, I mean, you told me it was a one time thing, and then that friend of your dad's died,” Kurt flushes at that. “But I was still bummed. So I invited Sebastian over to vent, or whatever, and it… well, it kind of ended up like when you came over.”

“Wait,” Kurt's eyes widen. “Seriously? You and Sebastian?”

Blaine nods. “Yeah, I know. The thing was, he actually wanted to go out with me after. And I was still bummed about what happened with you, so even though I didn't really like Sebastian I said yes and we started dating.”

“For real?” Kurt’s jaw drops and his heart does an uncomfortable flip in his chest.

“Yep,” Blaine laughs. “We got really serious really fast too. Like, telling each other we loved each other within weeks.” He shakes his head, and rolls his eyes. “Then when it was time to go to college he insisted I go to NYU with him. The thing was, I'd only gotten into NYU for Criminal Justice, but I'd gotten into Columbia for law. My parents really wanted me to go to Columbia, but Sebastian was insisting so… well, I mean, here I am. Thankfully I had a scholarship to NYU because when I told my parents they cut me off.”

Kurt chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, I know what that's like.”

“So, yeah. There I was, studying something I didn't really care about, with absolutely no money. That's when Sebastian asked me to marry him.”

Kurt's eyes bug. “Wait, seriously? Your freshman year?”

Blaine nods. “Yep. Got down on one knee and everything. Promised me financial support, all that jazz. I… I wasn't really in a position to say no.”

“So you married Sebastian?” there’s that uncomfortable feeling in his chest again.

Blaine flushes. “Yeah. Yeah, we got married right before our sophomore year started.”

Kurt glances down to Blaine's hands, raising an eyebrow at the lack of ring. “But you-”

“I'm not wearing a ring? Yeah, see, when you marry someone because you don't think you'll be able to afford living life without them, especially when you do that at twenty, things go down the drain pretty quick. We got divorced within the year.”

“Shit.”

“I know. Thankfully I got enough spousal support to be able to finish up my degree without worrying too much about money, but by now there was no way my parents were gonna let me back into the family. I mean, studying criminology, divorced before I was twenty one? I was a disgrace. So I kept doing my thing, got my degree in criminology, did a year at the police academy and… here I am.”

“Wow,” Kurt says, shocked into silence. “I mean… shit. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asks. “Why did you blame me for all that? I mean, clearly most of what happened was because of Sebastian.”

“I know,” Blaine says. “I know, but. It was just easier. Blaming you. I mean, Sebastian was and still is a big part of my life. I'm reminded of him every time I get my spousal support check in the mail. You were… well, you were out of the picture. I could look at magazines with you on them and grumble about how you ruined my life, but whenever I got those checks from Sebastian all I felt was defeated. Does that make sense?”

Kurt nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“I'm sorry,” Blaine says, exhaling. “I'm sorry I blamed you for all of that. And that I let it get in the way of my job. I… I do care, about who killed Finn. I do want to find out. I'm not just doing this for the paycheck.”

“I can tell,” Kurt smiles softly as he looks over the mess on Blaine's desk.

“So. Yeah, I'm sorry,” he laughs. “You know, I never realized how ridiculous I was to blame you for all of that until just now. I guess telling someone you blame them for things that have nothing to do with them really puts it into perspective, huh?”

“I guess so,” Kurt smiles.

Blaine smiles back, then glances around the room, as though worried someone will overhear. “If I tell you something will you promise not to tell your mother?”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, immediately intrigued. “Cross my heart.”

Blaine takes a deep breath, then says. “I actually just got promoted to Detective,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly. “One of the guys retired and I guess I impressed the Captain or something?” he looks down at his hands, “This is my first big case.”

“Seriously?”

Blaine winces. “Yeah. Guess that’s kind of why I’ve been on the defensive as well, you know? You come in here and tell me that I’m fucking everything up… it’s like my past just walked in and slapped me across the face you know?”

Kurt chews on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” he says, resisting the temptation to reach across the desk and squeeze Blaine’s hand. “I didn’t… I was just angry. I don’t actually think you’re a bad cop, I swear.”

Blaine smiles, and it looks genuine. Kurt feels his heart leap. “Thanks,” Blaine says quietly.

 “Can we… Can we do this again? Just hang out?” Kurt licks his lips, nervous, “Or, I don't know, I could help you out with the case. Try and clear my name.”

Blaine nods quickly, “I'd like that,” he admits, giving Kurt a bashful smile.

“Yeah,” Kurt smiles back, “Me too.”

**August 12, 2008**

Kurt's been crying for what feels like hours, his excitement at getting back at Sebastian having been drained the minute he caught his dad and Kitty embracing.

How could his dad do that? How could _Kitty_ do that? How could they both just betray Carole like that? Betray Kurt like that?

He wishes he hadn't told his dad that he was at Tina's earlier, because he really wants to get drunk right now. Wants to wipe the last couple of hours from his memory. Wants the night to end when he leaves Blaine's house, sated and content.

“Wait a minute,” he whispers to himself, sitting upright on his bed.

Adam, Kitty's dad… he's gay. Kurt knows he's gay. He's caught Adam staring at him. Seen his eyes linger around Kurt's ass, seen him lick his lips while watching Kurt talk. All it's ever done is gross him out, but now…

Well, getting revenge on Sebastian worked out so well. Should be just as easy to get revenge on his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine are in a sexual situation. Blaine asks them to slow down and Kurt convinces Blaine to continue even though Blaine is unsure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for graphic description of suicide and self-harm (not actually self-harm but may still be triggering)

**June 19, 2015**

Honestly, Kurt doesn't feel like working on the case. He really, really doesn't. Terri's been up his ass all fucking day, and right at the end of the day she asked him to check the cameras to make sure all the security guards were in their proper place, and when it turned out one wasn't she'd chewed Kurt out. Because it was totally his job to ensure that all the Hummel security guards were exactly where they were supposed to be.

So, yeah, he doesn't really feel like bouncing ideas off of Blaine for a couple of hours, but he also doesn't want to go home. It's too quiet there. Tina's never around, still mad he isn't dealing with his issues, Elliott disappeared as soon as Kurt's credit card did, and Finn… well, Finn was the only person in his family he actually liked. The only one he actually hung out with. Now he has no one.

He supposes he could call his mom but… well, he doesn't really want to deal with her constant sobbing about how horrible Finn's death has been for _her_. Kurt hates to admit it, but his dad was right. His mom's been getting far too involved considering she isn't really a part of the Hummel family anymore.

When his cab pulls up in front of the police station Kurt finds Blaine waving goodbye to someone, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, smiling widely. Kurt's heart flutters and his stomach squirms at the sight.

He jumps out of the cab and calls, “Blaine!”

Blaine turns. “Hey, Kurt,” he smiles, a stark difference from the sour face Blaine normally greets him with, “I was just heading out. See, this is why you can't just show up here.”

Kurt shrugs. “Where are you headed?”

“Home, I think. I've been here since 8AM and I've barely gotten anything done. I'm hoping a change of scenery might help.”

Kurt debates with himself for a moment before asking, “Can I come with? I need some decompressing myself.”

Blaine chews on his bottom lip, then nods. “Okay. I live just down the street.”

“Oh, an apartment downtown,” Kurt grins as he and Blaine begin to walk in the direction of Blaine's apartment. “Fancy.”

Blaine snorts. “Hardly,” he says. “I pay way too much for a studio apartment where I rarely get hot water and am constantly afraid of my ceiling falling in on me,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “It's close to the station, though. That's all that matters.”

It’s strange for Kurt to hear Blaine talk about his living situation like this. Living expenses have never been an issue for Kurt. The Hummels have someone in charge of their finances, and it’s that person’s job to pay bills and rent for every member of the Hummel family. Kurt’s never had to look at his bank account and wonder how he’ll manage to make rent for the next month. He’s never had to worry about not having enough hot water or whether or not his electricity will suddenly go out.

The walk to Blaine’s house is made in silence, Blaine starting to whistle a vaguely familiar tune after about five minutes. Kurt’s beginning to wonder if he’s made a huge mistake by inviting himself over to Blaine’s house when Blaine stops in front of a rather dilapidated building.

“Wait,” Kurt says, eyeing the building with disgust. “You live here?”

Blaine shrugs, “It may be a far cry from the Anderson estate, but it’s home.”

A far cry is an understatement. This place looks like it could fall apart at any minute. Kurt’s surprised that Blaine is more concerned with hot water than he is for his life.

Blaine lives on the second floor of the building, which Kurt is thankful for because he’s not entirely sure the staircase is capable of keeping two people up at once. Blaine has four key holes, all four of which he unlocks before (literally) pushing the door open. Kurt follows him inside, already quite concerned simply from seeing the outside and hallways of the place.

It’s not as bad as it could be. Blaine has obviously done the best he can. It’s a small apartment, a tiny kitchen and table stuffed into a corner, a double bed taking up the majority of the room, a dresser at the end of the bed with a TV balanced on top. There’s only one other door in the house, and Kurt assumes it leads to an equally small bathroom.

He has absolutely no idea how Blaine manages to live here.

“Sorry for the mess,” Blaine says, picking up a shirt, which is the only item on the floor. Kurt glances around the apartment again, hoping there will be more to it this time.

There isn’t.

“How much are you paying for this place?” Kurt asks, making his way over to the small kitchen table and sitting on one of the two chairs. “If it’s more than twenty bucks I’m going to cry.”

Blaine laughs. “It’s… it’s pricey, but it’s New York you know? I’m just lucky I don’t need a roommate to afford it.”

Kurt looks around. “Where would you keep a roommate?”

Blaine shrugs. “I’d get bunk beds, probably.”

“That’s just sad.”

“Thus my happiness at not needing it. Anyway, I’m just going to change real quick and we can get to work on the case, okay?”

“Right,” Kurt says, having momentarily forgotten why he came to this shit hole. “The case. Gotta clear my name.”

“Your name isn’t really in need of clearing. You’re like… an unofficial suspect. If we really thought it was you I would have arrested you already.”

“Even with no proof?”

“Even with no proof,” Blaine says. “Then we’d have twenty-four hours to get a confession out of you. After that time I’d have to let you go.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very good system,” Kurt says.

“It isn’t, which is why I try not to accuse anyone of a serious crime without actual proof.” He grabs a pair of sweatpants that are hanging off the back of the other chair, gives the shirt in his hand a considering look, then shrugs. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

Kurt nods, hands already going to his pockets to take out his cell phone. He casually browses the internet for a couple of minutes, rolling his eyes when he sees an article about his mom and Rachel being seen shopping together. Both look immaculate, and it’s reflected in the title of the article _Elizabeth Lopez and Rachel Berry both look stunning while out shopping on 5 th Avenue three weeks after death of cousin/close friend Finn Hudson_. Kurt scoffs, angrily closing the internet tab.

What exactly is the world expecting, that the only two people connected to the Hummels who actually care about this shit are suddenly going to start going out in sweatpants with no makeup? Yeah, right.

His phone buzzes in his hand and he’s already mid eyeroll before he even sees who it’s from. Honestly, there’s not a single person he wants to hear from right now.

He opens his messaging app, eyebrows furrowing when he sees the message came from _Unknown Number_. That’s… that’s odd. He has caller ID. If he gets a call or a message from an unknown number it should show the actual number, not the words ‘unknown number’.

He flashes back to the day Rachel had stopped talking to him, shouting angrily about him sending a threatening text from an “unknown number.” His heartbeat speeds up as he clicks on the message, dread filling his gut.

_I know your secret. I know you were involved in his death. Maybe I’ll just let that information slip to the police…_

Kurt’s blood runs cold as he reads the text over and over again. It takes him less than a second to know what the text is talking about, and the knowledge that more than two people know about it makes his head spin.

He’s still staring at his phone when Blaine comes back out, saying, “Okay now we can get- hey, are you okay?”

Kurt shakes his head and holds his phone out to Blaine. Blaine takes it without a word. Kurt’s vision becomes fuzzy, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. He can’t believe this. This isn’t real, this can’t be real, it _can’t_ be-

“Who sent this?” Blaine asks.

“I don’t know,” Kurt responds, voice hollow. “It’s… the number is blocked. It shouldn’t be blocked.”

Blaine doesn’t respond for a while. Kurt feels tears well in his eyes.

“I thought you said you weren’t involved in Finn’s death.”

Kurt looks up, breath caught in his throat. “I wasn’t,” he says. “That’s not- It’s not about Finn. I don’t know how they know – it’s not _true_ , I swear, I didn’t-”

Blaine sits down across from him, eyes on Kurt’s phone screen. “What is this talking about Kurt?”

“I-” he shakes his head. “Does it matter? Someone’s threatening me.”

“With what? There’s no… there’s no stipulation. This isn’t blackmail. I’ve honestly never seen anything like this.”

Kurt swallows thickly. “Rachel got one too,” he whispers. “A few days ago. She… she thought it was me because I was the only person who knew what she was being threatened with. She… there didn’t seem to be any stipulations either.”

Blaine’s face gives away nothing. “Is there anyone who knew both… things? What you’re being threatened with?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I’m the only one who knew about Rachel’s. Well, the only person alive. Finn knew too.” He takes a shaky breath. “My dad is the only other person who knows about… about mine.”

Blaine shuffles his chair closer. “Kurt, you have to tell me what this secret is.”

“Blaine-“

“No, listen. This person is threatening to tell the police. I’m the police. Whatever it is, you’ll be in less trouble if you tell me first.”

Kurt stares at Blaine from across the table. “I- It’s not what it sounds like,” Kurt says. “I had nothing to do with his death. I was with him before, I was the last person who saw him, but I didn’t kill him. It… it was an accident, he was drinking-“

“Kurt, who was drinking? Who are talking about?”

Kurt looks down at his lap. “Adam Crawford,” he whispers.

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up. “Adam – Adam Crawford?”

Kurt nods, glancing up at Blaine cautiously. “He- I was getting back at my dad. He did something… something disgusting. So I was getting back at him. We were at this party, and Adam and I snuck out to… you know. And when I was coming back Dad was coming towards me looking crazy. Said he heard a scream. We went back to the dock and found Adam dead in the water. That was it, I swear. I didn’t kill him, I had nothing to do with that, as soon as we were done I left, I was so grossed out by him.”

Blaine’s lips purse together, and he whispers. “Adam Crawford. The day after I lost my virginity to you.”

Kurt’s jaw drops. “Seriously Blaine?!” he shouts. “Seriously, that’s what you’re mad about? That I fucked another guy a day after I fucked you? Not the fact that someone is threatening to tell the police that I murdered him?!”

Blaine shakes his head. “You’re right, sorry. I just- sorry.”

“What do I do?” Kurt asks. “Do I respond? Do I… I don’t know what to do.”

Blaine looks down at the phone again, lips pursing together once more. Kurt stares at him with wide eyes, trying not to freak out. He can’t believe this is happening. He can’t believe he just told a cop about what happened with him and Adam. He can’t believe someone thinks he killed Adam. He can’t believe someone is threatening him with it. He can’t… he just can’t believe this.

“This doesn’t help your case,” Blaine whispers.

“What?” Kurt croaks.

“I just mean. Shit,” Blaine puts the phone down and passes it to Kurt. “Look, Finn was made to look like a suicide, right? Well, Adam Crawford was labelled a suicide as well. The amount of alcohol that was found in his system was astronomical. Enough to kill two people. There was no need for him to drink that much.”

“I know all of this,” Kurt says, trying not to sound impatient.

“Okay, well, it turned out that Finn didn’t commit suicide, he was murdered. But it was made to look like a suicide.”

“I know that, too,” Kurt says, a little more snippy this time.

“Kurt, you’re now the last person to have seen two men who apparently committed suicide alive. We know that Finn was murdered, and now with someone suggesting that you had something to do with Adam’s death as well… It doesn’t look good.”

Kurt’s throat goes dry. “You said it would help me,” he says. “You said if I tell you before this psycho leaks it that the cops will go easy on me.”

“That was before I knew it was related,” Blaine says. “Shit, Kurt. This doesn’t help you at all.”

Kurt swallows thickly. “Related? They’re not… They’re not related. What are you talking about? Adam just drank too much, lost his balance and fell off the dock. He didn’t… he didn’t want to kill himself. He hadn’t even been drinking since we went out –” he pauses, eyes widening. “Holy shit,” he whispers.

“What?” Blaine asks, leaning forward.

“He hadn’t been drinking since we went out to the dock,” he says, the wheels turning quickly in his brain. “We had a drink at the bar and then went out, but that was it.”

“Okay, so?”

“So when my dad and I found Adam’s body he was clutching a bottle of rum.”

Blaine blinks, then says. “He didn’t have that with him when you two left the party.”

Kurt nods. “You’re better at your job than you let on.”

Blaine doesn’t reply to that, just rushes over to his bed where he dumped his bag earlier. He starts to look through it, then pulls out a couple of pages, hurrying back to the table. As soon as he’s sitting down he begins to scribble on one of the pages.

“What are you writing?” Kurt asks.

“I’m writing myself a note to remind myself to look at the autopsy report for Adam’s case,” he says. “Because I can’t totally remember, but I’m pretty sure that the cause of death was not alcohol poisoning, it was drowning.”

“Why does that matter?”

“ _Because_ ,” Blaine says, turning the paper around and slamming it on his desk. “If he really wanted to kill himself by drowning, why would he bother drinking enough to die of alcohol poisoning? He would have just thrown himself in the water. No need to drink enough to drown a horse.”

Kurt’s lips part as he realizes what Blaine is saying. “Someone wanted it to look like he committed suicide,” he whispers. “Just… Just like…”

Blaine nods. “Just like Finn.”

Kurt slumps in his chair. “Holy fuck.”

Blaine doesn’t respond, suddenly pensive again. “Just like Finn,” he mumbles, then stands up and runs back to his bed, once again beginning to look through his bag. “Just like Finn,” he mumbles again, rifling through the bag. Kurt’s heart starts speeding up again, the knowledge that Adam was murdered, and in the same way that Finn was of all things, making his head spin.

To think he hadn’t actually come here to work on the case.

“Here we go,” Blaine says, throwing what looks like a page from a script onto the table in front of him. “From my original interview with Quinn Fabray-Hudson. I asked if she knew of anybody who might want to kill Finn, and she said not personally, but a couple of days ago Finn had received a threatening message, telling him that someone knew his family’s darkest secret and that they were going to expose it to the world. No conditions, no stipulations.”

“Finn… Finn received a threatening text?”

“From an unknown number,” Blaine confirms.

“And… and then he got murdered.”

Blaine nods. “And then he got murdered.”

Kurt feels light headed as he whispers. “One down, four to go.”

Blaine’s head whips up. “What did you say?”

“The article,” Kurt says. “On the website. One down, four to go. It’s the reason Sam got it in his head that Finn was murdered in the first place.” His hear freezes in his chest. “Rachel.”

“Rachel?”

“She – She got a threatening text about a week ago,” Kurt says, voice thick. “She got- and Finn got- And the website-“

“Kurt,” Blaine is suddenly in front of him, taking him by the shoulders and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Rachel is going to be fine. This… it’s probably just a coincidence, okay? That’s all.” Kurt shakes his head, so Blaine continues. “But how about I call Rachel down to the precinct tomorrow and tell her about the text found in Finn’s phone and the one that you received, huh? Let her make her own decision on whether or not she’s in danger?”

Kurt nods. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, we should tell her. She should know.”

“She does. But for now she’ll be fine. Do you hear me? She’ll be fine.”

Kurt nods again. “Right, yes. She’ll be fine,” he keeps nodding. “Totally fine. Just like Finn. One second fine, the next gone, dead, no longer in this world, after receiving a text similar to Rachel’s, after receiving a text similar to _mine_ -“

Lips press against his and all the breath is stolen from Kurt’s body. His eyes widen, Blaine’s face so close it’s almost frightening to see. Within seconds Blaine is gone and Kurt is frozen, eyes still wide as he and Blaine stare at each other. His lips tingle and his hands shake.

“Sorry,” Blaine whispers. “I’m – sorry. You… you were freaking out, and I had a boyfriend who liked to be kissed when he was freaking out, and I just – I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

Kurt shakes his head, rasps out. “Don’t be sorry,” and pulls Blaine back in.

Blaine groans as their lips connect, Kurt’s tongue immediately pushing into Blaine’s mouth.

It’s different, so different from the first time they did this. Blaine is surer now, more confident, hands framing Kurt’s face and tilting his head up to kiss him better. He knows what he’s doing, he doesn’t need to stop every two seconds to ask if it’s okay, if he’s doing it right, did I hurt you, can we slow down?

Kurt’s hand comes to rest between Blaine’s shoulder blades and he pulls him closer until Blaine is straddling Kurt’s thighs and the chair is creaking dangerously underneath them.

“We should,” Kurt says, interrupted when Blaine kisses him again. “We should move to the bed,” he manages to get out. Blaine nods eagerly and hops off Kurt’s lap, grabbing his hand and pulling him the three steps it takes to get to his bed.

He falls into the bed on his back and pulls Kurt down on top of him, hands going right back to Kurt’s face to bring him in for another earth shattering kiss.

This time around Kurt can admit just how wonderful this is. How much he’s enjoying kissing this gorgeous man. There’s no pretense this time. He isn’t lying to Blaine and he isn’t lying to himself. He’s letting himself feel, letting himself get lost in Blaine’s mouth, letting his thigh slip between Blaine’s legs and press down. Blaine kisses him harder at that, hips grinding up into Kurt’s thigh, cock getting harder against him.

It’s intoxicating.

Kurt separates, sits up and takes his shirt off. Blaine’s hands fall to his waist immediately, reverently running them over his overheated skin.

“Should we be doing this?” Blaine asks, eyes never leaving Kurt’s torso.

“Of course we should,” Kurt says, trying to lean down to kiss Blaine. Blaine stops him though, one hand snaking up to his collarbone and resting there.

“You’re upset,” he whispers. “I’m the detective assigned to your brother’s murder. Is this a good idea?”

Kurt looks down at him, then takes his hand and links their fingers together. He uses his other hand to cup Blaine’s face, smiling gently. “I’m not going to leave again,” he promises. “It won’t be like last time.”

Blaine shakes his head, “This is crazy,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side and kissing the inside of Kurt’s wrist. “It’s just crazy. Not five days ago I couldn’t stand the sight of you, and now…”

Kurt leans in and kisses Blaine’s lips sweetly. Blaine responds just as sweetly, lips barely moving, merely caressing Kurt’s. When they separate Kurt leans their foreheads together and whispers, “You’re an incredible man Blaine Anderson.”

That seems to quell any fears Blaine has about what is happening, because he moves back into another kiss and instantly goes to undo Kurt’s belt.

Kurt lets him, getting lost in the kiss and the feel of Blaine’s hands so close to where he needs them, then on his hips helping him wiggle out of his jeans. Soon Kurt is in nothing but his underwear and he smirks at the way Blaine’s eyes trail over him in awe.

Without saying a word, Kurt reaches down to discard the underwear as well, leaving him naked before Blaine for the first time in five years.

“You’re exquisite,” Blaine whispers, hands slowly trailing down his side before coming to rest at his bare hips. Kurt grins and leans back in for another heated kiss. “So much better than I remember.”

Kurt hums, biting down on Blaine’s bottom lip. “Think about me naked a lot, huh?”

“Only lately,” Blaine admits quietly. Kurt grins, and Blaine smacks him on the ass. “Oh, shut up.”

Kurt stares at him, eyes wide, and Blaine’s hand goes down to the ass cheek he just spanked, rubbing over it gently. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” he replies, kissing Blaine softly. “Maybe… another time? I just really want you in me right now.”

Blaine nods before Kurt’s finished speaking and pushes Kurt far enough away for him to pull his shirt of and kick his sweatpants off, leaving them in a heap on the ground at the end of the bed. Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up. “Commando?” he asks, the corner of his lips ticking up.

Blaine shrugs. “I told you that lately…”

“Mhmm,” Kurt leans in close and says, “Where’s your lube detective?”

**August 20, 2008**

“Kurt?” there’s a brief knock on his door before Santana is barging in, sunglasses perched on her head, lipstick and nails a matching bright red. “Kurt, what the hell, we were supposed to meet an hour ago.”

Kurt turns on his bed, curling his blanket tighter around him. “I didn’t feel like going.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to just fuck off, you have to at least text me and tell me what you’re up to,” her bangles clink together, and Kurt buries himself deeper into the blanket. “Kurt, what the hell, I’m talking to you.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

She scoffs. “What, are you upset because of Adam dying?”

Kurt shrugs, even though she probably can’t see him. “Maybe.”

“Bullshit,” she says, and her heels clack against the floorboards as she moves towards him. “I know for a fact you thought the guy was a creep.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, right. You? I don’t think so.”

Kurt sighs and sits up in bed. “What do you want Santana?”

“The truth,” she says, sitting down next to him. “From one Hummel to another.”

“You’re technically a Lopez,” he says.

She flicks his arm. “So are you, idiot.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “San, it would change everything. If I tell you.”

“Well, obviously it’s already changed something for you, so. Come on, spill. Let your big sister in on the dirt.”

Kurt breathes in and out deeply, then says. “Dad’s cheating on Carole.”

Santana freezes. “What.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“I- I saw him, the other day. The night before Adam died. He was with a girl. A… A much younger girl.”

“Who?” Santana asks, her voice hard. “Who was it?”

He could tell her he doesn’t know, that he didn’t recognize her, but he doesn’t feel like lying. Not to his sister. Not about this. “It was Kitty.”

Santana’s brow furrows. “Wait. Kitty Crawford?”

Kurt nods. “Yeah. Fucking skank’s been sneaking around with my pedophile of a father. It’s… it’s sick, Santana. They’re sick.”

“Kurt,” Santana says slowly, as though Kurt’s an idiot. “Dad… Dad isn’t sleeping with Kitty.”

“Yes he is,” Kurt says. “I saw them, okay?”

“You saw them fucking?”

“No, I saw them hugging and kissing just outside. I’m guessing she was just leaving, you know, hoping to get out before I came back.”

“Kissing on the lips?”

“On the cheek.”

“And you just… assumed they were fucking?”

“Santana,” Kurt says. “Kitty is my best friend, okay? That is her relationship to my father. Why the fuck would he be kissing her on the cheek and hugging her intimately after being alone with her for at least four hours, huh? Explain to me why my best friend and my dad would do that.”

“I don’t… I don’t know, Kurt. But I know that they aren’t fucking. I know that for sure.”

“How?” his voice is getting louder now. “How the hell could you know that?”

“I-” she shakes her head, looking down. “I just know, okay? Dad wouldn’t do that to Carole, and Kitty wouldn’t do that to you.”

Kurt stares, eyes blinking rapidly. “Wow,” he says. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“Kurt, come on-“

“No, you know, I trusted you with this. You asked me to tell you, as your brother, and I did, and now you’re throwing it back in my face. You’re siding with _them_.”

“Because you’re wrong, Kurt! You’re mistaken.”

“I know what I saw,” he shouts.

“Whatever you saw is wrong. Dad isn’t cheating on Carole with Kitty!”

“Yes. He. Is.”

She shakes her head, standing up. “You know what,” she says, smoothing her skirt down. “I’m not really in the mood to shop anymore.”

“You read my mind,” he grits out.

“Give me a call when you stop acting batshit crazy, okay?” she says. Kurt responds by throwing his pillow at her retreating back.

**June 20, 2015**

He and Blaine sleep on and off all night, always seeming to awaken at the same times for small chats or some light making out or, on one particular occasion, a blowjob.

It’s around seven in the morning when Blaine says, “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

Kurt turns from his spot in Blaine’s arms, cheek pressing against Blaine’s chest so that he can look at his face. “Go ahead,” he says, already slightly worried about what Blaine is going to ask.

Blaine’s fingers run up and down his shoulders as he deliberates, eyes flickering all over Kurt’s face.

“It’s about Adam,” he finally says.

“Okay,” Kurt replies, pushing himself up so that he and Blaine are at the same level. “You can ask.”

Blaine looks him in the eye for what feels like forever and then finally asks, “Why did you sleep with him?”

“Oh,” Kurt says, slumping back down and resting his head back on Blaine’s chest. “That’s easy. To get back at my father.”

“To… I don’t understand.”

“My dad had an affair with my closest friend. Or, at the time she was my closest friend, we don’t really talk anymore. I found them and decided to get revenge on my father by sleeping with one of his high up associates, somebody I knew he considered a friend. That that man just so happened to be the father of the girl my dad had the affair with… well, that was just sheer luck.”

“Your dad had an affair with Kitty Wilde?”

Kurt frowns. “You know her?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Blaine says, fingers going back to Kurt’s shoulder. “She’s studying to be a lawyer. We’ve had a few run-ins in court. She’s good.”

“She’s evil,” Kurt says. “She’s a backstabbing whore.”

“Hey now,” Blaine says, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder. “Those aren’t nice words.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “I just… I guess I have a hard time finding the right words for how much I despise her.”

Blaine hums. “I don’t think they’re those ones.”

“Why are you so good?” Kurt asks, pressing a kiss to the center of Blaine’s chest.

“Just who I am.”

“Well I think I kinda like who you are,” Kurt says, reaching a hand over his shoulder to link his fingers with Blaine.

“Oh, really? You’re not just using me to get revenge on Sebastian anymore?”

Kurt turns over and leans up so that he’s straddling Blaine’s hips, their fingers still linked. “You know what? I take it back. You’re not good, you’re a brat, and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Blaine wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Kurt replies, leaning down and kissing him languorously. Blaine pushes into the kiss immediately, and Kurt can feel Blaine’s cock twitch against his thigh. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, nipping at Blaine’s bottom lip.

“Only a little,” Blaine tilts his head up so that their lips meet again and Kurt smiles into the kiss.

His phone rings from where his pants were discarded the previous night and he groans. “Shit,” he says. “That’s probably Terri. I have to be at work in an hour and she’s probably pissed I’m not there already.”

“Just ignore it,” Blaine says, kissing the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “It’s not like your dad’s ever going to fire you.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kurt grumbles, letting the phone ring. He pulls Blaine in for another kiss when it finally stops ringing, then groans as it starts up again. “That woman is going to drive me crazy,” he grumbles, lifting himself off Blaine and leaning over the side of the bed to get at his pants.

When he manages to get to his phone he looks at the screen and frowns when he sees Sam’s name instead of Terri’s. He swipes to answer, holding the phone to his ear and asking, “Sam?”

“Kurt,” Sam says, sounding entirely out of breath. “Oh, thank god you answered. Look, you need to get down to Lenox Hill Hospital right away.”

“What? Why?”

“What’s going on?” Blaine asks.

“Who was that?” Sam asks before Kurt can respond to Blaine. “Kurt, was that Detective Anderson?”

“That- That doesn’t matter Sam. Why do I have to go to the hospital?”

“It’s… it’s Rachel. She cut her wrists last night. Almost bled out. Please, come as soon as you can.”

Sam hangs up the phone and Kurt feels like his heart just got pulled out of his chest. “Kurt?” Blaine asks, a hand coming around his waist and his chin resting on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Rachel,” he says. “I think… I think someone tried to murder her.”

**

Blaine holds his hand the entire ride to the hospital, but it doesn’t do much to calm Kurt’s rattled nerves. He can’t stop thinking that maybe if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in Blaine last night, maybe if he hadn’t let himself be carried away in the romance of it all… maybe Rachel wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed right now.

“It’s not your fault,” Blaine says, as though reading his mind. “You couldn’t have known.”

Kurt blinks away tears. “I did know, though,” he says quietly. “I did know.”

“You didn’t know it would be last night.”

“I could have warned her. I could have… I could have taken two seconds to tell her. I could have…”

Blaine pulls him close and presses a kiss to his temple. It’s reassuring in a way Blaine’s hand isn’t.

When they reach the hospital Kurt practically throws some money at the cabbie and runs in. He catches sight of Sam immediately, talking to someone on the phone.

“Where is she?” Kurt asks, stopping in front of Sam. Sam holds up a finger and Kurt’s jaw drops. “Are you fucking serious right now? Where the hell is Rachel?!”

Sam glares and says, “Yes, Hiram, I’ll make sure to keep you updated. Bye now.”

“Hiram and LeRoy aren’t here?” Kurt asks, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“They were on a cruise in the Dominican Republic. They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

“What the fuck is wrong with our family?!” Kurt shouts. “They’re on a cruise, Santana’s getting married, Dad didn’t even take a day off work – does nobody realize that Finn fucking _died_?! That Rachel almost died?!”

“You’re one to talk,” Sam says, eyes going behind Kurt. Kurt glances behind him and sees Blaine hurrying in after him, detective badge pinned to his chest.

Kurt breathes out sharply through his nose and says, “Can you just- just tell me where she is? Please?”

Sam gives him a hard stare for several seconds, then relents. “She’s in the ICU,” he points his hand further down the hall. “Only family is allowed to see her.”

“Good thing I’m family then, huh?” Kurt says, already hurrying in the direction Sam pointed. He glances back, hoping to see Blaine following him, but instead Blaine has stopped to talk to Sam. He has a small notebook open and looks entirely professional.

Kurt hates how easily he forgot why Blaine is really here.

When he arrives at the ICU waiting room he immediately sees his family all standing in a small clump, nobody speaking. Hiram and LeRoy are missing, as is Marley, but otherwise the entire Hummel clan seems to have assembled for the occasion.

His mom seems the most distressed, ever the drama queen, so he makes a beeline for her, wrapping an arm around her immediately and lets her blubber into his shoulder. His dad gives him a hard look but says nothing.

“What happened?” Kurt asks, looking around the small group. His dad and Carole are sitting together, Carole so pale Kurt is worried she’ll pass out at any moment. Santana and Quinn are standing together, Quinn with a comforting hand on Santana’s shaking shoulder. Without Finn, Hiram, LeRoy and Rachel they feel like such a small group. Such easy targets.

“She- she tried-“ Santana starts but can’t finish. She folds into Quinn, who holds her close and rubs a soothing hand down her back.

“She tried to kill herself,” Burt speaks up, voice emotionless. “Slit her wrists.”

“She would have bled out if Santana hadn’t found her,” Quinn whispers, tears glistening in her eyes.

Kurt shakes his head. “She didn’t,” he says, holding his mother closer when she lets out a loud sob. “She didn’t try and kill herself.”

Santana looks up at him, mascara running down her cheeks. He thinks this is the least put together he’s ever seen her. “What the fuck are you talking about? I fucking saw her,” she shouts. “She was lying in her bathtub, and her wrists were slit right down the middle. Are you trying to tell me she slipped while shaving?”

“No,” he says. “I’m trying to say someone wanted to murder her.”

Nobody reacts for several seconds, the only sound heard being Elizabeth’s sobbing.

The first person to speak is his dad, who clears his throat and says. “I don’t think now is the best time to be talking about that. Finn’s death has already been marred by this stupid police investigation. Don’t bring Rachel into this too.”

Kurt sets his jaw and glares at his father. “Too late,” he says. “I brought Detective Anderson with me. He’s interviewing Sam right now.”

Burt opens his mouth, then shuts it and pushes past Kurt and heads back in the direction Kurt came. Kurt doesn’t have time to worry about him. He presses a kiss to his mother’s forehead and then looks up at Carole and asks, “Can I see her?”

“She doesn’t look good, Kurt,” Carole says quietly. “Just… just so you’re ready for it.”

Kurt nods and untangles himself from his mother, who falls into a chair immediately and continues to sob.

There’s a doctor in Rachel’s room, jotting down notes on a clipboard as she circles Rachel’s bed. From the entrance to the room all Kurt can see are Rachel’s wrists, both covered in white bandages. There’s a small dot of red on the right wrist, the one closest to Kurt, and it makes bile rise in Kurt’s throat.

The doctor looks up and gives him a sympathetic look. “You’re the third cousin, right?”

He nods, eyes still on Rachel. He’s closer now and can see her face. She’s so pale he wonders if she’s even alive at all.

“How is she?” he asks, wincing as soon as he says it.

“Well, she’s out right now,” the doctor replies, as though it wasn’t obvious. “We’re hoping she’ll regain consciousness in a couple of hours. She lost a lot of blood though, so nothing is certain.”

Kurt whips his head in her direction, “What does that mean?!”

The doctor puts her hands up, eyes wide, “Nothing. Sorry, it was a bad choice of words. I simply meant she may not wake up in a few hours, it may be a little longer.”

“But she’s going to be okay, right? She’s going to live?”

“Oh, yes,” the doctor smiles, only slightly easing his worries, “We already gave her a small blood transfusion and we’ll be moving her out of the ICU quite soon.”

Kurt looks back at Rachel, blinking quickly in an attempt to stop his tears. “That’s –” he sniffs. “That’s good.” She looks so small in the hospital bed. As though she could crumble into dust at any minute.

“I’ll give you a minute, okay?” the doctor says, patting his arm sympathetically as she leaves. Kurt sniffs again and heads to the chair set up next to Rachel’s bed. A single tear escapes as he stares at her. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so- I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t respond and he breaks down.

**

Terri calls Kurt at around ten asking him where the hell he is. He tells her to turn on a fucking television and announces he’s taking the next week off. He hangs up on her before she can protest.

He doesn’t see Blaine again until around noon. He’s been sitting in the waiting room for hours, not wanting to leave but also not wanting to see Rachel again. If he has to look at the bandages around her wrists again…

Blaine is in full Detective regalia, and Kurt almost rolls his eyes at the way he approaches Kurt, hands at his hips. He’s holding some kind of black box in one hand and his police badge is in the other. “Mr. Hummel?” he says, and Kurt actually rolls his eyes this time. “Do you have a few moments for some questions?”

Kurt snorts but pats the chair next to his. Blaine sits on the edge of the seat, holds up the black box and presses a button. Kurt assumes it’s some kind of recording device.

“Mr. Hummel, where were you this morning between 6:00 and 7:00AM?”

“Are you serious?” he can’t help but ask. “My cousin almost fucking died and you’re playing cop?”

Blaine hits the button and sets the recorder down. “I’m just doing my job Kurt.”

“I don’t see why,” Kurt says. “You’re my alibi. I was with you all night. I’m pretty sure I was sucking you off exactly when this happened. Why are you even bothering?”

“Because you’re a prime suspect in this case, and it’s important that we have your alibi on the record.”

Kurt huffs, but nods at the recorder. “Fine,” he says, straightening his shoulders as Blaine presses the button again. “I was with the same man between 5PM yesterday evening and around 8AM this morning.”

“Who is this man? Will he corroborate your story?”

Kurt rolls his eyes, seconds away from knocking that stupid recorder out of Blaine’s hands and walking away. “Yes, he will, and his name is Detective Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine purses his lips but nods. “One more question.”

“Of course.”

“When was the last time you spoke to the victim, Rachel Berry?”

“About a week ago,” he says. “We spoke over the telephone. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

Blaine nods. “Thank you Mr. Hummel,” and turns off the recorder.

Kurt glances up at the door leading to Rachel’s room. “Are you going to get in trouble?”

Blaine shrugs. “Probably.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I guess,” Kurt picks at a loose piece of skin around his thumb. “Do you need to go back to your office right away? Or can you stay for a little while longer?”

“I have to head back,” Blaine says, pursing his lips. “But… I could probably put it off for a bit, if you really want me to stay.”

He does, but he doesn’t know how to express that. Blaine isn’t his boyfriend, after all. He’s the detective in charge of Finn’s murder investigation. That’s the only reason for Blaine to be here.

“It’s okay,” Kurt says, swallowing thickly. “Go… go do your job. Catch whatever lunatic did this.”

Blaine stares at him for a few minutes, then nods and heads out of the ICU. Kurt watches him go, heart heavy in his chest.

The door to Rachel’s room opens and Santana slips out, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She looks up and her eyes lock on Kurt’s. With a sniff she makes her way to where he’s sitting and falls into the seat beside him.

Kurt clears his throat and says. “Did… did you really find her?”

Santana nods, and Kurt can see tears pooling in her eyes. “We were supposed to talk about my bachelorette party, you know, since you dropped the ball again,” she says, but there’s no bite to it. “I was a bit early. I thought she would be mad.”

“Thank god you were,” Kurt says. She nods and wipes under her nose with the tissue.

“Um,” she says, sniffing again. “I was thinking my bachelorette was going to be me, Rach, and a bunch of other girls up at the Berry’s house in Long Island,” she looks at her hands, fiddling with the tissue. “I… I was hoping that you and Sam would come up with me instead.”

“You… You want me there?”

She shrugs. “Safety in numbers, right?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, releasing a long breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go.”

She smiles, then quietly reaches over and takes his hand. He links their fingers together. Neither speaks another word.

 **June 23** , **2015**

Kurt is just finished packing up his clothes for the night when his phone buzzes. It’s a text from an unknown number, and Kurt instantly throws his phone across the room, heartbeat immediately skyrocketing.

His eyes are wide and his hands are shaking as he carefully approaches his phone, lying innocuously on the ground next to the wall. He picks it up with cautious movements and presses the center button to view his notifications again.

A sigh of relief escapes him when he sees numbers atop the message and the words _Hey, it’s Blaine_ at the beginning. He unlocks his phone to read the rest of the message, heart still pounding angrily against his ribcage.

_Hey, it’s Blaine. This is probably unprofessional, but I got your phone number from your file. Don’t tell anyone? :P Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you are officially no longer a suspect on this case. Congratulations! Guess you had a pretty good alibi, huh? ;)_

Kurt reads the message over and over again, fingers tightly clutching his phone. Honestly, he isn’t sure how to respond to that. He hasn’t heard from Blaine in three days, three days which he’s spent locked in his house, blankets pulled over his head, desperately trying not to cry out of sheer fear.

He texts back a simple _Great, thanks_ , snaps his suitcase shut and heads out the door. Once he’s outside he flags a taxi and gives the cabbie Santana’s address. For some reason it was super important to Santana that they drive down together.

Honestly, the way things were, he doesn’t blame her for wanting that.

His phone buzzes. Another text from Blaine.

_That’s it? I know I’ve been a little distant, but you know I had to work. This whole Rachel thing is adding a whole new layer to the case. I’m sorry for not texting before, but do you have to be that cold?_

Kurt scoffs.

 _I’m on my way to Santana’s. I don’t really want to talk about this now_.

Blaine replies in seconds.

_Fine, if you want to be that way. I should have known you hadn’t really changed. Call me when you feel like acting like a grown up._

Kurt rolls his eyes, locks his phone, and ignores it for the rest of the ride.

**

The ride up to Long Island is tense. Santana drives and she keeps switching radio stations. Sam spends the entire ride with his eyes in his lap, tapping incessantly on his phone. Kurt stares out the window and tries to ignore how terrible everything is.

They split up to find their rooms when they arrive, but Santana asks them not to be too long. She says she wants them all to be in the same room as often as possible. Normally that would be torture for Kurt, but given the circumstances he finds he can’t return to the living room fast enough.

When he does return it’s to find Santana lighting several tea candles on the coffee table and Sam walking in with a large bottle of tequila.

“Is that a good idea?” Kurt asks, eyeing the tequila wearily. “I mean, I’m all for getting hammered, but…”

“We’re not getting hammered,” Santana says, rolling her eyes. “Just buzzed enough not to feel awkward around each other anymore.”

“Awkward? I don’t feel awkward,” Kurt grins sarcastically. “I’ve never felt less awkward in my life.”

“Knock it off, dickwad,” Santana glares.

“Name calling? Already? It’s only been-”

“Both of you, stop,” Sam says, slamming the bottle on the coffee table. “I know this is weird, I know we don’t all get along, but Rachel is in the fucking hospital. Finn is dead. Someone may be trying to kill us. Is now really the best time for this shit?”

Kurt falls into one of the recliners surrounding the coffee table. “You’re right,” he mutters. “Can I get some of that fucking tequila or what?”

They each do three shots, after which Sam heads over to the nearest bathroom and pours the rest of the bottle down the sink so they aren’t further tempted. When he returns they all sit in silence for what feels like forever. As silence reigns, Kurt feels his body warm up and his brain become slightly foggy as the alcohol begins to take effect.

“Do you guys really think someone is hunting us?” Santana asks suddenly, glancing at both of them. “Like, do you really think that article after Finn died was a threat? Do you think the same person who killed Finn tried to kill Rach?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers immediately. “I one hundred perfect believe that.”

“Me too,” Sam says quietly. “And I’m so fucking scared.”

“Yeah,” Kurt whispers, thinking of the text he received several days before. It suddenly feels like the most important thing in the world, “Have either of you received any weird texts?”

“Weird how?” Sam asks. Santana leans forward in her recliner.

“Weird as in kind of threatening, but not really? Like, saying they’ll tell people your secret, but not telling you what to do to stop them from telling your secret? From an unknown number, that shows up as ‘Unknown Number’ and not as the actual number?”

Both Sam and Santana shake their heads. “No,” Santana says slowly, cautiously. “Why?”

Kurt shrugs. “I got one,” he says. “The night before Rachel…” he swallows thickly. “Finn had one on his phone. Rachel got one about a week before she was… attacked.”

“Shit,” Sam says quietly. “Do you think…?”

“That they’re a warning? Yeah,” Kurt nods solemnly, then lets out a humorless chuckle. “Guess I’m next, huh?”

“Don’t,” Santana snaps. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“I’m not joking,” Kurt says, eyes starting to water. “It’s a high probability. It happened to Finn and Rachel, it’s going to happen to me. I don’t know when, but soon someone is going to try and murder me.” He laughs again, and this time a tear escapes his eyes.

“Why the hell is this happening to us?” Santana asks. “Why… Why would anyone want to kill us off? None of us really have any money, and even if we did what would killing us do? Is this person trying to put an end to the Hummel line or something?”

“Can’t be,” Kurt says. “They wouldn’t have killed Finn if that was the case. Just you, me, and Rachel.”

They fall into silence once more.

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Sam says, voice still quiet. “Sometimes I think about it and I just… I can’t believe it. I can’t believe someone killed him. I can’t believe that he’s just… not here anymore. I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither,” Santana says. “You know he was originally supposed to be my best man? I asked, he said yes, everything was set. Then he came to me two months ago and begged me to ask Rachel instead. Said he thought it would help our relationship.” She looks down at her hands, fidgeting in her lap. “It did.”

“He was really there for me when my parents died,” Sam says, smiling for the first time since he arrived at Santana’s house. “He kept bringing me all these gross gas station slushies because he knew I secretly liked them. He was the one that talked to Uncle Burt about getting me my job. He used to come around randomly and make me do things. Go for walks, play videogames, read books… just whatever, trying to get me active again. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“I would have walked away from this family years ago if it wasn’t for him,” Kurt admits. “I may have been on the outside looking in, but I was still here. That was because of him,” he snorts. “You know even my mom adores him? Like, he’s the son of the woman my dad left her for, but she still loved him. They would get dinner twice a week. She told me once that he was the only person who actually listened when she talked,” he wipes a tear from his eye. “To be honest I always thought she had a bit of a crush on him.”

“Ew,” Santana says, but she’s laughing. Kurt can’t help but laugh along, and soon Sam is laughing as well, all three of them doubled over in their seats, as though sharing some kind of inside joke they’ve had for years.

“God,” Sam says, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve laughed like that since… well, since before Finn died.”

“Me either,” Santana says, giving them both a small smile. Kurt doesn’t feel like smiling though, because it’s the same for him. He hasn’t laughed at all, he doesn’t think, since Finn died. In fact, the only time he’s ever felt slightly okay was that night with Blaine, and look how that turned out.

They fall into silence, none of them meeting each other’s eyes. Kurt picks at a piece of loose skin around his thumb.

Santana takes a deep breath and says, “What did they threaten you with?”

Kurt looks up, frowning, “Who?”

“You know. Them. Whatever psycho’s doing this to us.”

Kurt holds her gaze, then shakes his head. “Like hell I’m telling you.”

“Kurt,” Sam says, leaning forward. “We’re all in this situation together. We… We didn’t take it seriously, before. Now Rachel’s in the hospital. You said it yourself, we’re next. The least we could do is be there for each other.”

“Why does that mean telling you guys my deepest darkest secret?” he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away. “I may have agreed to this excursion but that doesn’t mean we’re all suddenly besties.”

“Well do you at least know what Finn and Rachel were threatened with?” Sam continues, “Just so that San and I have an idea as to what’s coming.”

Kurt worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I know Rachel’s,” he admits. “I have no clue what Finn’s was.”

“So what was Rachel’s?”

Kurt glances between them and shakes his head. “It’s not my place.”

Santana clears her throat. “I think I know what Finn was threatened with.”

“Wait, what?” Kurt furrows his brow. “How?”

“Um,” she runs a hand over her face. “Finn and I… we had a complicated relationship. Especially over the past couple of years.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam says, frowning. “You asked him to be your best man.”

“Yeah, cause we’re close as hell. But that doesn’t mean…” she sighs. “Things weren’t always easy with us.”

“So… so what was it?” Kurt asks. “Or, what do you think it was?”

She raises an eyebrow and shoots Kurt a pointed look. “It’s not my place.”

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t try and make me feel guilty for protecting Rachel’s privacy. She’s still alive.”

“So is everyone else related to Finn’s thing,” Santana says, crossing her arms. “I didn’t invite you up here for a gossip session about the dead you know.”

“Then why even tell us that you probably know?”

She shrugs. “I’m buzzed. Fucking sue me.”

“It’s not like we’re going to blab or something,” Kurt argues. “We all loved Finn. Probably more than we’ll ever love each other.”

“It’s true,” Sam says, nodding far too enthusiastically.

Santana shakes her head. “I can’t. Telling you Finn’s thing would lead to things about me, which would lead to things about Marley, and quite frankly none of it is either of your fucking business.”

“None of our… Did you forget the part where we’re being hunted by some kind of serial killer?” Kurt throws his arms in the air. “We’re supposed to be trusting each other, or some shit.”

“Then tell us what you were threatened with.”

“Hell no,” Kurt scoffs. “If you’re not telling, I’m not telling.”

“Jesus,” Sam shouts, standing up. “I have a fucking kid.”

Kurt’s eyes widen and he looks at Santana, whose eyes are widened as well. They turn to look at Sam at the same time.

“What?” Santana whispers.

Sam falls back onto the couch. “I have a kid,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “I have –” he sighs, unable to finish the sentence.

“I… how? You’ve never… you’ve never had a serious relationship,” Santana says. “You’re always working… when would you even have time to…”

“Father a child?” Sam asks, raising his eyebrows. “It actually doesn’t take that long,” he says, snorting.

Once again silence falls over the trio. Kurt stares at Sam, trying to make sense of what he’s just said.

A child. Sam has a child. Somewhere out there, running around in the world, is a little Hummel.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” Santana bursts out. “You have a child, the end?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Uh, where is the kid? Why have none of us heard of this? Who’s the mother?”

“My daughter got adopted by a very nice family in Nebraska,” Sam says. “None of you have heard of this because it would have been a scandal, and when it happened I’d just earned my position at Hummels. I didn’t want to jeopardize it. Plus, the woman didn’t want anyone to know either.”

“Who is she?” Kurt repeats Santana’s question. “How did you meet her? How did any of us miss this?”

Sam sighs. “I don’t know. We didn’t exactly advertise it, you know?” He rubs his hand over his face again, then begins, “You remember like, five or six years ago? When Rachel’s dads decided to renew their vows and they made us all learn to dance for the ceremony?” Kurt and Santana both nod. “Well, the girl they hired, Mercedes Jones. She and I… we just hit it off. I’d never really been interested in a relationship, especially then since my parents had just died but, I don’t know. It just happened.”

“So why’d you hide it?” Kurt can’t help but ask. “You know our family isn’t like, elitist or something.”

Santana snorts, but Kurt ignores her.

“It wasn’t me, or us, really,” Sam says. “It was her. She was engaged when we met. Plus she was, or I guess still is, a devout Christian. The kind that doesn’t believe in sex outside of marriage.”

“So what, did you impregnate her through prayer or something?” Santana teases. Sam rolls his eyes.

“No. That’s why we couldn’t really come out with it. We’d just been hanging out, as friends, and then the one night we got a bit carried away. She felt awful, you know? Called it off on the spot,” he snorts. “Turns out it didn’t matter. Three months later she called, said she was pregnant and her fiancé had left her.”

“Okay… so why didn’t you just get together then?” Kurt asks. “Get married, raise the kid?”

“She was embarrassed,” Sam says. “She couldn’t live up to what she did, so she went into hiding, had the baby, gave it up for adoption and… well, the last I heard she’d gotten back with her fiancé and they got married.”

“Shit,” Santana whispers. “That blows.”

“Yeah, it does,” Sam admits. “But it’s okay. The family that adopted her, they send me pictures sometimes, and letters. Her names Natasha. She’s four, or five, I’m not sure.” He smiles softly, then says. “Anyway, yeah. If I was going to get blackmailed… I’m pretty sure that would be why.”

He looks between both of them, eyebrows raised in expectation.

It must be the buzz from the alcohol, because soon Kurt is blurting, “I slept with Adam Crawford.”

“Excuse me?!” Santana says, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. “You did _what_?!”

“We slept together. Or, sort of. We hooked up, basically. I sucked his dick, really, is what happened.”

“Ew, Kurt!”

“What? He sucked mine, too!”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Santana puts her hands to her ears. “That is so gross why the hell would you do that?”

His jaw sets. “You know why.”

Sam gives him a curious look. “I don’t know why.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt says. “The point is I did it. I hooked up with Adam, on the night that he died. That’s what I’m being threatened with. They say they’ll tell the police I killed him.”

“Did you?” Santana asks, eyes wide in what looks like terror.

“No! What the hell?”

“Sorry,” she says. “Just checking.”

“Jesus,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “I wanted to get revenge on my dad, not on him.”

“Wait, what did Uncle Burt do?”

“It doesn’t fucking _matter_ Sam,” Kurt snaps. “All that matters is that I slept with Adam, that’s what I’m being threatened with, the end.”

Santana takes a deep breath. “I guess I should tell you guys something about me, huh?”

“I mean, we all shared,” Kurt says, feeling incredibly vulnerable knowing that Sam and Santana both know about it.

“You don’t have to,” Sam says.

“I… I kind of want to, now that you guys shared,” she admits. “But you guys have to swear you won’t tell anyone, okay? This doesn’t just affect me. It affects everyone.”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam says immediately. Kurt nods as well.

Santana pauses for several seconds, nibbling on her bottom lip and looking around the room. Finally she says, “My relationship with Marley is fake.”

“Wait, really?!” Kurt asks, feeling both surprised and smug, “It’s-”

“Fake. Yeah. Always has been,” she glares at him. “And don’t you dare try and rub it in my face that you were right or whatever.”

Kurt raises his hands defensively. “I would never.”

“Wait, but how did this even happen?” Sam asks, eyes wide, leaning forward on the couch.

 “We were always close friends,” Santana begins. “And then when we came out at the same time our families thought it would be a nice publicity stunt. Then Rose Industries hit some financial hard times. Dad agreed to bail them out, but the Rose’s refused to just take charity. It was Dad’s idea that Marley and I keep dating so it wouldn’t look… well, like it was.” She gives Kurt a level look. “I know you don’t understand this Kurt, but I would do anything for that man. He’s done more for me than anybody in my life. So, yeah. That’s how I ended up in a ten year long fake relationship that is now culminating in a wedding.”

“Jesus,” Sam whispers. “How can you stand it?”

“It’s not really that bad,” Santana says. “Marley’s one of my closest friends, always has been. We’re basically just roommates who lie a little around other people.”

“But don’t you hate the idea of never meeting someone?” Kurt can’t help but ask. “Of never actually being with someone you love?”

“That’s… that’s kind of where other people come into this,” she says, taking a deep breath. “And where Finn comes into it.”

“O… kay?” Sam scoots forward on the couch and leans his elbows on his knees. “Elaborate?”

“Well, I did meet someone,” Santana says. “About seven years ago. We’ve been having a secret affair. It’s all very scandalous.” She rolls her eyes.

“Who?”

She looks up at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, and says, “Quinn.”

“Quinn… as in Finn’s wife Quinn?!”

“What the fuck Santana?”

“I know it sounds bad,” Santana says. “But it’s not… Look, Finn knew.”

“He knew you were sleeping with his wife?” Kurt asks skeptically. “And he was still willing to be your best man? Are you sure that’s not why he pawned the role off to Rachel?”

“I told you, it’s all very complicated,” she says, sending him a glare. “Look, Quinn and I met when she and Finn first started going out. Quinn realized really soon that she wanted to be with me and not Finn. She broke up with him, but then I explained to her that I had to stay with Marley. So she got back with Finn and married him just to spite me. We kept fooling around though, and finally one day I couldn’t take it anymore, so I came clean. When I told Finn, he said that he already knew. He’d known basically since she and I met. He… He’d married her as a cover too.”

“Finn?” Sam asks. “Finn married Quinn as a cover? No way, he always told me that he loved her more than life.”

“Yeah, in the same way that I love Marley,” Santana says. “Look, they were using each other. Quinn wanted to get back at me, plus she got to marry rich, and Finn got to not seem like a total creep. Win-win.”

“How is Finn a creep?” Kurt asks, a little afraid of the answer.

“Well,” Santana says, clasping her hands together. “Finn’s always been in love with one girl. One girl, since he was a kid, basically. A girl he actually loved more than life, but a girl he could never actually be with.”

She pauses, and Kurt groans. “This isn’t the time for dramatics, Santana. I’m too tipsy for that.”

“Fine, whatever, ruin my fun,” she says, rolling her eyes. “It was Rachel, duh.”

“Rachel… Rachel Berry?”

“The one and only,” she says, spreading her arms wide in a ‘ta-da’ motion.

“As in his _cousin_?”

“Not by blood, asswipe,” Santana snipes. “Look, Finn and Rachel had a little fling when they were younger, I think when Finn was twenty-three and Rach was nineteen. Eventually Rachel called it off, worried about the scandal it would cause. Finn never really got over it. So, yeah. Rachel.”

“I can’t believe it,” Kurt whispers. “I can’t… I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“Same,” Sam says.

“Hey, if it makes you guys feel better, he only told me because I was fucking his wife, so.”

“That does make me feel a little better, thanks Santana,” Kurt says, faking a smile. She flips him off.

“Wow,” Sam says, glancing between Kurt and Santana. “I can’t believe there’s so much about each other we don’t know.”

“I can,” Kurt says. “Honestly, I never in hell would have told you guys about Adam if I was sober. Shit, my dad was the only one who knew for so long. Then last week I told Blaine and now you guys. What the hell has gotten into me?”

“You told Blaine?” Santana asks. “As in Detective Anderson, in charge of Finn’s murder case? Why the fuck would you tell him you slept with Adam?”

Kurt shrugs. “Because I slept with Blaine too?”

“Jesus Christ, Kurt,” Sam says. “You can’t just sleep with the detective in charge of solving Finn’s murder!”

“Well, I did,” he snaps. “And it ended up working really well for me because they thought I’d killed Finn, but since I was with Blaine the night that Rachel was attacked they took me off the suspect list. Guess being a slut has a few perks, huh?”

“God, I hate that word,” Santana says, shaking her head.

“Whatever. The point is that I never thought I would tell anyone about that, and now four people know. Must mean the world is ending or something.”

“It might be,” Sam says, suddenly serious. “For us, at least,” he swallows thickly. “Guys, what the hell are we going to do about this killer?”

Santana shrugs. “Try and live, I guess. Rachel managed it.”

“Because you came and found her. If you hadn’t had plans she would have died, just like Finn,” Sam starts blinking quickly, and Kurt thinks he sees tears welling in his eyes. “Just like us.”

“Hey, listen,” Santana says. “I just told you two my deepest, darkest secret, okay? As far as I’m concerned, any shit that happened in the past is now erased. We’re good. Even you and me, Kurt,” she reaches out a hand. Kurt smiles, stands, walks over and takes it. “I’m not going to let someone knock us off now that we just fixed our relationship. Got it?”

She reaches out her other hand for Sam, who takes it as well. “Got it,” he whispers.

“Got it,” Kurt echoes.

Santana squeezes both of their hands. “Good.”

**June 24, 2015**

The ride home is far less tense than the ride up had been. Sam spends half the ride telling them all about his daughter, all the things that she’s accomplished in her incredibly short life. Kurt doesn’t find any of them very interesting, but he’s never seen Sam smile the way he is right now, so he keeps his mouth shut and listens.

Santana tells them more about her and Quinn, and a little bit about Finn and Rachel. She admits that Rachel spent the night at her house the day Finn died, curled up between Santana and Marley, inconsolable. It seemed as though Finn wasn’t the only one who never got over their short lived romance.

Kurt wonders what that must be like. To love someone, to know they love you back, and not do anything about it until it’s too late. Rachel will never know how things with Finn might have turned out. She’ll never have the opportunity to find out. The possibility of their future died right along with him. She must have been devastated.

He asks Santana to drop him off in front of Hummel Enterprise. He has to tell his dad that he isn’t coming in for the rest of the week, and let Terry know that he is, in fact, receiving her phone calls, he’s just ignoring them.

The secretary is as bumbling as ever, but Kurt makes sure to smile at him today. It isn’t really fair to make fun of the poor boy.

God, who the hell _is_ he?

He rides the elevator up to the top floor and marches down to his father’s office.

“Kurt,” his dad says when he knocks on the door. “Chandler said you’d be up.”

“Yeah, I’m just here to tell you that I’m taking the week off,” he says. “You know, for mental health reasons.”

Burt’s eyebrows raise skeptically. “Mental health reasons?” he asks. “Kurt, this is your third week on the job.”

“Yeah, and my brother was murdered a month ago, and there was an attempt on my cousin’s life. I need a couple of days off. To rest and mourn.”

“You mean to go out and party with those friends of yours,” Burt shakes his head. “Sorry, but no. If you aren’t here tomorrow at eight, I’m sorry to tell you, but you’ll be fired.”

“Fired?” Kurt scoffs. “Seriously? First you cut me off, and then you’re gonna fire me? On what grounds?”

“On the not showing up to work grounds,” Burt says, glaring. “I’m trying to help you out here, Kurt. The real world doesn’t take a break when bad things happen.”

“I can’t believe this,” Kurt says, beginning to pace the room. “You know, if I was working at any other place in the world and I told them I needed some time off because of the recent tragedy in my family, they would give it to me no problem.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t working at any other place. You’re working here, because you can’t get any other job. So how about you show a little gratitude.”

“How about you show some fucking emotions?” Kurt shouts. “Finn was your _son_ , dad. Your _son_ died, and you just got up and went to work the next morning. What the fuck is wrong with you? Even Sam – workaholic Sam, who is never two feet away from his phone – took a couple of days off to mourn.”

Burt gives him a hard stare. “Mourning doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone,” he says. “He’s dead, the end. The earth doesn’t stop moving because an heir of Hummel Enterprises died.”

Kurt stares at his dad, unable to believe what he’s hearing.

“My earth stopped moving,” he says. “Carole’s earth stopped moving. Rachel’s earth stopped moving, Santana’s earth stopped moving, Sam’s earth stopped moving. Fucking mom’s earth stopped moving and she wasn’t even related to him. Why is it that everybody’s earth stopped moving except for yours?”

“Because I’m not the only person on my earth,” Burt bites back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do. If you aren’t here tomorrow consider yourself fired. Have a good day.”

Kurt stands in front of his father’s desk, not knowing what to say. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he feels like screaming from the top of his lungs.

He hates his dad. He _hates_ him.

Not knowing what to say, Kurt shakes his head and starts to head out. Before he reaches the door his dad says, “Oh, one more thing.” Kurt stops, but doesn’t turn or look over his shoulder. “Tell that little fuck buddy cop of yours to stop poking his nose around the company’s business. It’s bad enough he’s digging around in our personal matters, the least he could do is leave Hummels out of it.”

Kurt purses his lips. “What if somebody from Hummels did it?”

“We reviewed all the security tapes, and he interviewed everyone who worked with Finn. Nothing came up, so just tell him to mind his own damn business from now on, okay?”

The defensiveness in his father’s tone makes the hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck stand. He nods and hurries out the door, heart thudding in his chest and mind going a mile a minute.

He manages to get a cab as soon as he leaves the building, and he doesn’t hesitate for a moment before telling the cabbie the direction of Blaine’s precinct.

**

The secretary doesn’t even try and stop him this time, so Kurt marches right down the hall and to Blaine’s office without any problems. He knocks once before opening the door, heart still beating as quickly as it was when he left the Hummels building.

“Kurt,” Blaine says when he sees him, instantly standing up. “I – hi. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“I didn’t either,” Kurt says. “Look, I know things have been weird between us, but I’m not here for that.”

“Oh,” Blaine sits back down, looking disappointed. “Okay, well. What’s up?”

“I think I know who killed Finn.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up. “You – seriously?”

Kurt nods and blurts out, “I think my dad did it.”

Blaine purses his lips. “That’s a really serious accusation Kurt,” he says, and points his hand at the chair in front of his desk. Kurt sits in it, leg instantly beginning to move up and down. “What evidence do you have to prove it?”

“I – not… anything, really. He just hasn’t shown any emotion to this whole thing, you know? He’s been going to work like nothing’s wrong, and he told me that he’d fire me if I don’t come into work tomorrow, even though I’m feeling wiped after everything with Rachel. And today he told me to tell you to stop snooping around in the company’s business. He’s obviously trying to hide something.”

Blaine chews on his bottom lip and looks down at his desk. “Look, Kurt, I know you’re mad at your dad, but-”

“It’s not about that!”

“ _But_ ,” Blaine continues, “Your dad has an alibi for the morning Finn was killed, as well as the morning Rachel was attacked. It wasn’t him.”

Kurt shakes his head. “No. No, it has to be, he has to be hiding something, otherwise-”

“Kurt,” Blaine reaches forward and takes Kurt’s hand. “People grieve in different ways. Your father is having a hard time processing Finn’s death, and because of that he’s acting out defensively whenever someone tries to bring it up. He isn’t guilty, he’s just grieving.”

Kurt doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to respond. He just stares down at the desk, where Blaine’s hand is covering his. His hand is so warm. Kurt turns his hand over and links their fingers together. Blaine squeezes his hand.

“What’s his alibi?”

Blaine sighs, “Kurt…”

“I know,” Kurt says quietly. “It’s confidential. But… can’t you bend the rules a little? For me?”

He glances up at Blaine, who is biting his lip and clearly struggling with what to say. “You won’t like it,” he says.

It’s all he has to say. Kurt untangles their fingers and stands up. “No.”

“Kurt-”

“No fucking way.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt is fuming. “So even though my dad isn’t a murderer he’s still a fucking cheater. After all these years... and on the night Finn died, of all fucking things,” he clenches his fists. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Kurt, come on. It may not be what you think.”

“What the hell else could it be?! Why else would he hire her for the legal department, which happens to work very closely with him? Why else would he be with her at _eight in the fucking morning_? You think they were having an early meeting? Give me a break.”

“Still,” Blaine says quietly. “It’s… this is a hard time. For all of you. Don’t make it harder by jumping to conclusions.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Too late.”

“Kurt…” Blaine stands and walks out from behind his desk. He wraps his arms around Kurt and holds him tight. Kurt returns the hug, allowing some of his anger to leave him. “Come over tonight,” Blaine says quietly. “We can talk about it. Or just watch a movie. Or make out.”

Kurt laughs and leans his face against Blaine’s hair. “Can we do all three?”

“All three sounds perfect.”


	6. Chapter 6

**June 25, 2015**

Kurt wakes up to the sound of an alarm blaring in his ear, a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his naked chest. Kurt cuddles closer to Blaine and shuts his eyes as tightly as possible, as if that will make the noise stop.

Blaine tightens his hold around him and kisses the back of his neck softly. “Good morning,” he whispers.

“Why is that thing going off?” Kurt groans. “I thought you took the day off.”

“Oh, I did,” Blaine says. “But you didn’t.”

Kurt opens his eyes this time and turns around in Blaine’s arms, giving him a steady look. “I thought we went over this yesterday,” he says. “I’m not going back there. If my dad wants to fire me, so be it. All it does is make him a shitty boss.”

“I know what we said yesterday, but I was thinking about it, and wouldn’t it be super great to prove him wrong? Show him that you’re the bigger man?”

“I don’t want to be the bigger man,” Kurt pouts. “I want to be the smaller man and stay in bed with you.”

“And as tempting as that is,” Blaine says, chuckling. “I still think you should go to work today. If anything just to stick it to your dad.”

“I do love pissing him off,” Kurt admits. “Why are you so right all the time?”

“Well, I’m a detective. It’s kind of my job to be right.”

“Why are you so good at your job?”

Blaine scoffs and shakes his head. “If I was that good at my job I would have caught whoever killed Finn, attacked Rachel, and is threatening you.”

Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine gently on the lips, “You’ll catch them,” he says, “I know you will.”

“And _you_ will have an amazingly terrible day at your job,” Blaine teases, “Now, get out of here. You’ll be late for work.”

They kiss again, and it fills Kurt’s stomach with butterflies. “Hey,” he says when they separate. “Sorry I was such a douche over text the other day.”

“Sorry I ignored you for three days after your cousin got attacked.”

Kurt smiles and rubs their noses together.

“Be my boyfriend?”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Kurt bites his bottom lip to stop his grin from getting out of control. “Why? Do you not want to?”

“Kurt, I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since our senior year of high school.”

“So that’s a yes then?”

“That’s a hell yes!”

They spend a couple more minutes kissing and rolling around on the bed.

“Okay,” Blaine says, putting a hand on Kurt’s chest. “You really do need to get out of here before you’re late.”

“Alright, boyfriend,” Kurt says, giving him one last peck on the lips. “But only if you agree to get coffee with me after I’m done.”

“Deal.”

**

  
Kurt arrives at the office exactly seven minutes early, wiggling his fingers at Chandler in greeting and grinning when the man quickly picks up his phone and starts whispering something into it. He sends him a wink as he heads into the elevator and presses the button for the twenty-fifth floor, hoping that Terri will be so surprised to see him that she’ll forget to be a terror for the day.

The elevator stops at the fifth floor, and Kurt sighs, stepping towards the back of the elevator, not feeling like interacting with anyone.

That feeling is tripled when he sees Kitty step into the elevator, hair done up in a neat bun, speaking rapidly into her Bluetooth. She looks annoyingly professional, and Kurt wonders if any of her co-workers know the real reason she has this job.

Their eyes meet and Kitty’s widen. “Listen, Joe, I’ll call you back,” she says, pressing the button on her Bluetooth device and then hitting the twenty-seven button. “Kurt.”

“Homewrecker.”

Her eyes narrow and her jaw sets. “How many times do I have to tell you-”

“It’s not what it looked like,” Kurt says, voice pitching higher than usual. “Tell me, was it also ‘not what it looked like’ when my dad was with you the morning Finn died?”

Kitty’s glare becomes dangerous and her jaw clenches. “How do you know that?”

“Does it matter?” Kurt scoffs, “You know, I really thought you would have more respect for yourself than this. It’s been seven years, he’s obviously never going to leave Carole.”

Kitty crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, so now it’s that I don’t respect myself? I thought I was a low-life whore, but it’s nice to know I’ve levelled up.”

“I just don’t get it,” he says. “My dad isn’t even hot for his age, and since he obviously isn’t going to leave Carole there’s no chance of getting his money. Are you just screwing him so you can keep this job? Seriously, what’s the point?”

“Jesus Christ, Kurt,” she says. “I don’t know how I can make it any clearer: _I am not fucking your dad_.”

“Then why the hell was he with you the morning Finn died, huh? Because really, I can’t think of any reason he would be there at eight in the fucking morning other than having spent the night.”

Kitty’s hands clench into fists. “I was sick,” she says, jaw clenched. “He brought me soup and a couple of magazine’s That’s it.”

“Is that supposed to convince me that you aren’t fucking?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously? You expect me to believe that my dad just decided to bring one of his employees soup and some magazines out of the goodness of his heart? Please,” he shakes his head. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“You know, the way you’re always acting, you’d think you were,” Kitty snaps. “Look, I swear to god that I’m not fucking your dad Kurt. I don’t even like-”

The door dings and Kurt looks up to see it’s his floor. “Well, it was nice chatting with you,” he says, walking past her and flipping her off as he goes.

He hears her mutter, “Asshole,” before the doors close behind him, and he rolls his eyes as he makes his way towards Terri’s office.

She’s typing away on her computer, and he smiles over enthusiastically when she looks up. “Hey there boss,” he says. “Want me to get you a coffee or something?”

“Well, well,” she says, smirking and crossing her arms over her chest. “Look who actually decided to show up today.”

Kurt shrugs. “What can I say? I just had an overwhelming urge to come in and cater to your every whim.”

She hums and nods. “Alright. Well, I need you in the camera room today.”

“Wait. Seriously? You want me to do actual security related work?”

“Yes,” she rolls her eyes. “The police have been up my ass for weeks about the video of the morning Finn Hudson was murdered. I’ve told them a thousand times that I’ve checked that morning’s tape and there’s a huge chunk edited out, but will they listen to me? No, they just keep calling and calling, it’s driving me crazy.”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”

“We keep a double copy of every video ever recorded. There’s about five external hard drives filled with them. I’m guessing whoever did this didn’t know about that, so the footage from that morning should still be intact,” she sighs heavily. “The problem is that all the files are merely labelled ‘video_1’ and such. You’ll have to go through all of them to find the one we’re looking for,” she relaxes into her chair. “I would do it myself, but I’m just so busy. You know how it is.”

“So… what you’re saying is that you want me to spend the next eight hours sitting at a computer, going through a bunch of unlabeled files, trying to find the video of the morning Finn was murdered?”

“And if you could get me a coffee while you’re at it, that would be fantastic,” she says, smiling and turning back to her computer. Kurt growls and stalks away, pulling his phone out as soon as he gets to the break room and texting Blaine to let him know that he hates him.

**

Within half an hour Kurt wants to tear his hair out. Not only are the videos not labelled by date, but they are also not labelled by location. Which means that even if Kurt _does_ stumble upon the video with the right date, he’ll still have to look through the thirty videos surrounding it in search of the feed from the thirtieth floor.

He’s mainly been clicking around on random videos. He assumes that even if they’re incredibly poorly labelled they’ll at least be chronological, so he’s been mainly looking at videos on the last hard drive. The first video on that hard drive was from five days before Finn was murdered, according to the date at the bottom of the screen, so he knows it has to be in here somewhere.

He clicks on Video_58, and almost shouts in excitement at the sight of the date before Finn died. He goes to click out of it, knowing it’ll probably be about ten or fifteen videos after this one, when Kitty walks onto the screen. She coughs into her elbow, and Kurt remembers her saying that she was sick.

Just as she’s about to walk out of the camera’s view, Kurt’s father walks into it. He stops her and puts his hands on her shoulders. Kitty shakes her head, and Kurt clenches his fists in anger. They aren’t even being discreet anymore. He’s going to fucking murder his dad.

Burt puts a hand up to Kitty’s forehead, and she turns her head away, a frown distorting her face. Burt says something, and Kurt curses these stupid videos for not having audio as well. It’s the twenty-first century, dammit. He’s going to be talking to Terri about this.

Kitty wriggles out of Burt’s hold and says something that seems to hurt his feelings, as he steps back, face fallen. Kitty rolls her eyes, says what looks like ‘I’m fine,’ and then starts walking around him.

Once again she is stopped, and this time Kurt’s heart jumps right into his chest. Finn walks onto the screen, greets Burt, and then whispers something to Kitty. She groans exaggeratedly, and Finn looks up to Burt, who nods, gives Kitty one last forlorn look, and walks out of the camera’s view.

Finn leans down to talk to Kitty, and she looks instantly defensive. He talks for a good minute, and Kurt feels tears pooling in his eyes. He’s there. Right in front of him. Just hours before Santana’s fitting, hours before he came to Kurt’s house to tell him off… Hours before he died.

He doesn’t look mad at Kitty, but Kitty definitely looks mad at him. She snaps at him when he stops talking, but instead of looking hurt like Burt had, Finn just shakes his head and continues talking. Kitty crosses her arms over her chest and says something out of the corner of her mouth. Finn sighs, and hands her a file. Kurt can’t make out the words on the front of it, but they seem to jar Kitty.

He thinks he sees Finn say ‘think about it’ before he walks away, leaving Kitty alone with the file. She looks down at it, opens it, and flips through a couple of pages. Then, glancing up at where Finn left, she crumples it up as well as she can and throws it in the garbage before walking away.

He pauses the video, heart racing.

Kitty saw Finn the day before Finn died.

Kitty had an altercation with Finn.

Kitty was angry at Finn when he died.

He pauses his search to take a walk, trying to process everything he just saw. Kitty…

Kitty was sick the morning Finn died. Kurt’s dad went to visit her and give her soup. There’s no way she could have gotten the soup from Burt and then somehow beat him to Hummels so she could kill Finn. It didn’t add up.

He gets a glass of water from the break room and heads back, heart still pounding rapidly in his chest.

_It can’t have been Kitty_ he tells himself, _she has an alibi. Besides, even if she was mad at Finn it doesn’t explain why she would be mad at Rachel too. She barely even knew Rachel_.

The argument feels weak, even to him, and he decides to click the next video instead of one further down the line.

This one shows the front lobby, and Kurt is happy to see that this particular video has sound. The time stamp says it’s about the same time that Kitty and Finn were arguing on the twenty-seventh floor, so Kurt takes his cursor and moves the video forward.

He’s going a little fast and almost misses it. He stops the video and frowns.

Rachel is standing in front of the front desk, leaning over it, her mouth open in what looks like a scream. Kurt unpauses the video and instantly has to lower the volume as Rachel’s shrieking fills the room.

“-tell him it’s _urgent_ ,” she’s shouting at Chandler, who is quivering in his seat. “Do you even know who I _am_? I _demand-_ ”

“Rachel,” and the tears are right back, this time one of them slipping out of the corner of his eyes. “Hey, what are you doing here so early?” Finn walks onto the screen, presumably having exited the elevator. He looks confused, but there’s a fondness in his gaze. Kurt wonders how he ever missed that.

“You know,” she says, her voice slightly quieter, but still extremely loud. “I know you know, dad told me you know.”

“Rachel,” Finn puts a hand between her shoulder blades and leads her off to the side, away from Chandler. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, so quietly Kurt can barely hear him. He turns the volume back up, hoping he won’t regret it.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she hisses. “I can’t believe you’re just going along with it, like nothing’s wrong. I thought you had integrity Finn.”

Finn glances around the lobby. “Rach, is this really the place for this?”

“What other place is there?!” she throws her hands in the air, and Kurt winces as she screams the last words. Finn winces as well, though it doesn’t seem to be for the same reason as Kurt does.

“Literally any other place,” Finn says. “Look, can we just-”

Rachel pushes him aside and points a finger dramatically. “You!”

Kurt looks up to where her finger is pointing and his stomach falls out of his body.

“What do you want?” Kitty asks. She’s sneering, but her voice is obviously congested, and it sounds far less biting than Kurt’s sure she wanted it to sound.

“I know you know too,” she says. “I know you know, I know you both know and you aren’t doing anything about it,” Rachel shouts. “Well, I’m going to tell,” she says. “I don’t care what it does to this family or this company, I’m telling, and-”

Finn’s hand clamps over Rachel’s mouth, and Kitty glares at Finn saying, “Will you shut her up please?”

“Rachel, come on. Let’s take a walk, huh? Cool down?”

Rachel glares, but Finn doesn’t take his hand away from her mouth. Kitty looks murderous as Finn and Rachel walk past her.

“Make sure she keeps her trap shut,” Kitty tells Finn. Finn doesn’t react, just continues to walk Rachel outside, leaving Kitty standing in the middle of the lobby, glaring at Rachel like she wants to kill her.

Oh god.

_Oh god_.

He pulls out his phone, getting ready to call Blaine, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. He turns around to see Terri standing behind him, her eyebrows raised.

“How long have you been fooling around on your phone for?” she asks. “You’re not sexting some guy, are you?”

“What?” Kurt asks, voice breathless. “Why would I be-” oh, right, Terri thinks he’s a slut because he messed around with her husband. “Never mind. What do you want?”

“Just checking to see your progress,” she says, smiling that fake, awful, smile of hers. “Have you found the video yet?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I’m getting close though,” he says, heart pounding in his chest. “Hey, on a totally unrelated question, Kitty said she was sick and stayed home on the day Finn died. Is that true?”

Terri raises an eyebrow. “How the hell should I know?”

“Well… she’s your daughter… so…”

“We don’t live together,” Terri rolls her eyes. “How old do you think Kitty is? She’s been living on her own for years.”

“Oh,” he says. So his dad is the only alibi Kitty has for that day.

“Enough about that. Chop chop, Kurt! The sooner I get that video to the police, the sooner they can stop badgering me about it.”

Kurt nods and looks back at the computer, clicking out of the video he’s on and clicking a random video several files ahead. He hears Terri’s heels clicking as she walks away, and he goes to take his phone out again.

He’s halfway through a text to Blaine when something catches his eye on screen. A blonde something, with her hair pulled into an elegant bun, wearing the exact same jacket he saw her wearing today. The video is from the lobby, and Kurt feels his stomach clench when he sees the time stamp on the video.

May twenty-ninth. 8:25AM

He watches as Kitty walks through the almost empty lobby, briefly waving at Chandler, who is half asleep behind the desk. She disappears, probably into an elevator, and Kurt knows exactly where she’s going.

He clicks on the next video, but it’s of the second floor. He continues clicking on videos until he finds the one for the thirtieth floor. Just as he suspected, at 8:27AM Kitty walks out of the elevator, exiting in such a way that her back is all the camera can see. Kurt shakes his head. If she didn’t want people to see her face she shouldn’t have worn her hair in the way she always does, or worn a jacket she wears almost daily.

Kurt watches intently, waiting for Kitty to return to the elevator after pushing Finn. She doesn’t though, and Kurt fast forwards the video, watching intently. Nobody comes back down the hall to the elevator. The next person to arrive on the thirtieth floor that day is Blaine, in full police regalia.

Kurt falls back into his chair, heart beating so hard he’s surprised it hasn’t flown right out of his chest.

He has the video. Not only that, but he has videos from the day before proving that Kitty was angry at Finn. And Rachel.

And… him.

He moves the pertinent videos into a separate folder, downloads them onto a USB and rushes to Terri’s office. “Here,” he says. “These are the videos you want.”

“Videos? Plural? I only asked for one.”

“They’re all important,” he says. “Trust me.” He goes to turn around, but at the last minute changes his mind and says. “By the way, I won’t be coming in tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” Terri’s eyebrows raise dangerously. “You’re planning on missing _more_ work?”

“I am. It’s my sister’s wedding. It’s been planned for months. I’m not going to miss it because my dad decided he wanted to teach me responsibility at literally the worst possible time.”

She shakes her head. “You know, I can’t wait for the day when your dad either takes pity on you and gives you a higher paying position out of my sight, or realizes you’re absolutely worthless to this company and gives you the boot.”

He laughs, but it sounds strangled and not at all natural. “You might get your wish sooner than you think,” he says, and finally turns around and walks out of her office.

**

“Wait, wait,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt’s feet onto his lap and starting to rub them gently. As if that is going to calm Kurt down. “So you still think your dad killed Finn? Even after I told you his alibi?”

“His alibi is a lie,” Kurt says, forcing himself to relax into Blaine’s couch. “Don’t you get it? It was him and Kitty the whole time. They did it, together.”

“But _why_?” Blaine asks. “What’s their motive? Why would they be killing off the Hummel heirs and heiresses?”

“I don’t think they are,” Kurt says. “I think it’s just Finn, Rachel, and me.”

“But the website said-”

“The website is run by some crackpot lunatic who knows nothing. They probably made that up to seem like they knew more than they do. Haven’t you noticed the website has barely posted anything since Finn died?” Blaine nods slowly, clearly unsure if he believes Kurt. “Look, Kitty had an argument with Finn the day before he died. He gave her some kind of folder, which she crumpled up and threw out. Then Rachel showed up screaming about how Finn and Kitty knew something and she was going to tell everyone. Something about the company.”

“What about the company?”

“I don’t know, but it must have something to do with my dad and Kitty, and Finn obviously knew too. Maybe instead of Finn convincing Rachel to keep her mouth shut, Rachel convinced Finn to tell, and that’s why they killed him. To keep him quiet.”

“But then why hasn’t Rachel said anything since then?”

“She’s scared!” Kurt says, throwing his arms in the air in frustration. “She’s too scared to say anything, and rightfully so seeing as she’s currently in the fucking hospital after almost being _murdered_.”

Blaine purses his lips, thinking. “You definitely saw Kitty at Hummels the day Finn died?”

Kurt nods. “She went up to his floor and everything. Never came back down. She and my dad probably met up there, pushed Finn together, and then went down the stairs to avoid being caught.”

“You saw your dad in the video?”

“No, but I’d bet anything that he was there.”

“Kurt this is all… it’s all pure speculation. You don’t have any proof-”

“I gave the videos to Terri,” he says. “She’ll turn them in to the police, and then you’ll have all the proof you need.”

Blaine sighs, his thumb digging into Kurt’s heel. “What about you, huh?” he asks. “Why would they want to kill you? You don’t know whatever it is that Rachel and Finn knew about the company.”

“But I know about their relationship,” Kurt says. “It’s been going on for so long, it’s obvious Dad is never going to leave Carole for Kitty. I’m sitting on a huge scandal, one that could ruin Hummels just as much as whatever Finn and Rachel knew. Obviously they want me out of the picture as well.”

“Kurt this all…” Blaine shakes his head. “It just… it feels like something’s missing. Like we’re missing a piece of the puzzle.”

“Look, if you don’t believe me, go interview the boy at the front desk at Hummels. His name is Chandler and he saw Kitty come in on May 29th.”

Blaine pulls Kurt closer by his legs, so that he’s almost sitting in Blaine’s lap. “Thank you for telling me all this Kurt,” he says. “I’m going to look into all of it. I promise. I’ll look at those videos as soon as Terri hands them in, and I’ll talk to the boy at Hummels. Okay?”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do,” Blaine insists, rubbing a hand up and down one of Kurt’s legs. “I do, I promise. It just feels like there’s something missing. Something about this whole thing just doesn’t make sense to me. Let me look into it and see what I can find, okay?”

Kurt nods slowly, still suspicious. “Okay,” he says. “As long as you actually do it.”

“First thing tomorrow,” Blaine says, then leans in and kisses Kurt gently. Kurt feels his heart rate slow down for the first time since he saw the video of Kitty and Finn, and he kisses Blaine back, one hand going to Blaine’s neck to hold him in place.

He wants to continue kissing Blaine and hopefully forget about today for as long as he can, but their kissing is interrupted by Kurt’s phone going off. They separate with a groan, and Kurt grabs his phone out of his pocket, frowning when he sees Santana’s name on the screen.

He swipes the screen and brings it up to his ear. “Santana?”

“I got one,” she says, voice hoarse as though she’s been crying. “I got a text. Sam is here with me – he got one too.”

“What?” Kurt asks, glancing over at Blaine. “You – You did?”

“Yes, Kurt, we fucking did! What do we do?”

“Uh, just… hold on,” Kurt puts his phone to his chest. “Santana and Sam got threatening texts.”

Blaine nods. “Give me the phone.” Kurt does so without thinking. “Miss Lopez? This is Detective Anderson. I understand that you’re frightened, but I want to assure you that everything is under control. Nobody will harm you or your cousin.” A brief silence, and Blaine says, “I suggest you get some rest. Your wedding is tomorrow. You want to be well rested for that.”

Kurt can’t hear what Santana says, but Blaine obviously agrees with it as he nods and says, “Exactly. Have a good evening and, just in case, stay indoors,” and hangs up the phone.

“Is she okay?”

“She is,” Blaine says, handing him his phone back. “She remembered that you got a text first, which means that she’ll be safe until something happens to you. Since you’re safe, clearly she is safe.”

Kurt’s jaw drops. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “So much for rekindled friendship.”

“Hey,” Blaine cups Kurt’s cheeks. “It’s going to be fine, okay? I’m going to look into your dad and Kitty, you’re going to go to Santana’s wedding, have a wonderful time, and all of this will be over before you even know it.”

Kurt shakes his head. “I just don’t get it,” he says.

“What don’t you get?” Blaine asks, thumb rubbing circles around Kurt’s cheek.

“Why they would go after Sam and Santana,” he says. “Rachel, Finn, and me, they have reasons for that. But Santana and Sam? I… I can’t think of any reason they would have to go after them.”

Blaine purses his lips. “It’s like I said,” he whispers. “We’re still missing a piece.”

Kurt nods, feeling far more frightened than ever. He knows they’re getting close, that this whole thing is almost over, but Blaine is right. They’re missing a piece, and Kurt just knows that that piece is the most important one of all.

**June 26, 2015**

“Oh, darling,” Elizabeth clasps her hands together and places them in front of her mouth. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Kurt doesn’t think he looks _stunning_ , but he has to agree that he doesn’t look bad. The white tux that Santana picked out looks good on him, and he’s gladder than ever that he isn’t wearing the neon green monstrosity that Marley’s friend Jake has to endure.

“You look great too Mom,” he says, grabbing his keys and wallet. “Are you ready to go?”

She nods, walking out of the apartment in front of him and linking arms with him as soon as he’s locked the door. He doesn’t know why she bothers, seeing as no paparazzi will get to them until they go outside. Still, her only daughter is getting married today. He can let her have this one.

He’s a little disappointed that his date to Santana’s wedding is their mom and not Blaine, but due to everything that’s happened recently, Blaine will be attending the wedding as Detective Anderson, not as Kurt’s boyfriend. It’s too bad, too. Kurt would have loved to show him off.

There’s a town car waiting for them outside his building, as well as dozens of paparazzi. Kurt mainly ignores them, while his mother gives them all winning smiles and blows them kisses. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand the obsession his mother and Rachel have with these hounds.

“Mom,” he finally snaps when his mom starts to chat amiably with one of the paps. “We really need to get going.”

“Oh, of course. It’s my daughter’s wedding,” she tells the paparazzi. “Although I’m sure you all knew that already.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and steps into the town car. It’s another five minutes before his mother’s hubris is finally satisfied and she steps into the town car as well. She brushes a stray hair off her face, huffing as though she had just gone through some huge ordeal.

“Some of those men can be real animals,” she says as the car sets off. “Asking me about why Santana hasn’t postponed her wedding with all that’s happening. You’d think they would have a little respect,” she shakes her head. “In times of trouble it’s important for family to gather together and find reasons to celebrate. It is the only way to truly move on from tragedy.”

Kurt raises a skeptical eyebrow. “If that’s the case then why didn’t you just insist we all spend a weekend at a cottage instead of insisting on this damn police investigation?”

She tuts. “Well, getting justice over Finn’s death isn’t exactly going to hinder our grief, now is it? Or would you rather his killer keep wandering around, doing whatever they please? Now, that didn’t work out too well for Rachel did it?”

“Clearly,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I think the police are close to making an arrest.”

“Good,” she says primly. “I’ve grown restless with all this waiting. If you ask me, that Detective Anderson is too hesitant to make an arrest. Most detectives would have arrested three or four suspects already.”

“ _I_ would have been arrested mom,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “That’s why he hasn’t arrested anyone. Because I’m the only person they even came close to arresting, but they still couldn’t find enough proof to do so. Whoever did this is just really good at hiding, and the police didn’t need a lawsuit after wrongfully imprisoning the son of one of the wealthiest men in the world.”

She huffs. “Speaking of your father,” she says. “He has been most stubborn about this entire ordeal. I have spoken to Detective Anderson several times and he claims that Burt has refused to reveal to the police more than absolutely necessary. It really hinders the case.”

“Yeah, dad’s being a pain, what else is new?” Kurt slumps into the car seat.

“Darling, don’t sit like that, you’ll wrinkle that beautiful suit,” she chastises. He sits upright, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Really though, I don’t know how Carole puts up with him. Such a stubborn mule, never listening to anybody, always running around, keeping secrets, ‘working late’,” she spits out the last words. “I warned her, you know? When they first met. I told her that he was not a good man, that all he would do was hurt her. Do you know what she said?”

Kurt glances at her, raising an uninterested eyebrow. He’d heard this particular story far too many times to care now.

“She said that she knew he had hurt me, but he was repentant, and she knew he would never do the same to her.” She laughs. “So naïve. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did _exactly_ what he did to me to her. He’s probably still doing it, although where he would find someone willing to sleep with him with that gut of his-”

_That_ piqued Kurt’s interest. He turns to stare at his mother, his eyes wide. “Wait,” he puts a hand up. “Dad cheated on you?!”

She looked entirely uncaring about the entire matter. “Well, why else do you think we divorced?”

“Uh, the never listening to anybody, the keeping secrets, the working late, for starters.”

She chuckles. “Darling, your father never ‘worked late’. Unless you count screwing his secretary, or whoever she was, as working late,” she straightens her shoulders. “I told Carole, you know. I said, once a cheater always a cheater, but did she listen? Of course not. Off and married him anyway. He’s probably been seeing somebody on the side for the entirety of their marriage.”

“Maybe not the entirety,” Kurt whispers.

“Either way,” she waves her hand in dismissal. “Why are we still on this dreary subject? It’s a happy day! It’s your sister’s wedding, isn’t it? No more talk of that father of yours.”

Kurt nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Today is about Santana, not about Dad.”

Elizabeth puts a hand on his shoulder and Kurt looks up to see tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, what?” he asks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize all this talk of dad was so upsetting to you-”

“No, no,” she shakes her head and wipes away a tear. “I couldn’t care less about that old man. It’s. Oh, you’re going to think it’s silly.”

“Of course I won’t, mom. What is it?”

“Well, darling,” she sniffles and smiles, eyes soft and wet. “That is the first time in years that you have not corrected me when I called Santana your sister.”

Kurt’s eyes soften as well. “What can I say? Half-sister is kind of a mouthful,” he smiles, not wanting to reveal the truth about his reconnection with Santana. His mom nods and sniffles again, wiping at her eyes once more.

“Oh, look at this,” she says, holding up a finger, traces of black smudged on the fingertip. “You’ve made me smudge my make up.”

“So sorry,” Kurt says, slightly teasing. She chuckles and unbuckles her seatbelt, shuffling across the seat to wrap him up in a hug.

“I love you, darling,” she whispers into his ear and this time it’s Kurt’s eyes that start misting up. He can’t remember the last time she told him that.

“I love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She sits right next to him for the rest of the ride, her cheek resting on his shoulder, their hands linked together in her lap. Kurt holds onto every second of this. If his dad and Kitty are planning on knocking him off soon he’s glad that his mom will at least have this memory of him. Of them. And if his dad and Kitty don’t end up knocking him off, well, then he has this memory as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you figured out who the killer was ;)

**June 26, 2015**

Santana looks absolutely stunning. Beyond stunning, really. She’s quite possibly the most beautiful bride that Kurt has ever seen.

It really is too bad that this marriage is a sham.

Regardless of that fact, Santana actually seems quite nervous. She’s pacing the room, shaking her hands as though to relieve her nerves. Sam keeps glancing at Kurt, who doesn’t know what to do either. Finn was always the best with these things, and Rachel actually had a surprisingly close relationship with Santana. They are incredibly under prepared as groomsmen.

There’s a knock on the door and Burt peeks his head through. Kurt feels rage welling inside him at the sight of his father. His father who is cheating on his wife. His father who cheated on his mother. His father who killed his own son.

“Hey,” he says. “Everyone’s settling down. You ready for this?”

For some reason Burt’s walking Santana down the aisle. Kurt had tried to convince Santana to let their mother do it, but for some reason she insisted. Kurt doesn’t really see the point. Marley’s mother is walking her down the aisle. It would just make everything more cohesive.

Plus there’s the fact that his dad is plotting to murder them.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she says, but she doesn’t sound ready at all. Kurt walks over to her and gives her a hug. Sam follows suit, and soon they’re wrapped in an odd three-way hug that is both uncomfortable and the best thing to ever happen to Kurt.

“It’ll be fine,” Kurt whispers. “Nothing’s going to change.”

Santana nods, then grins. “Okay. I’m ready. For real.”

All four walk together, Santana with her arm linked through Burt’s, Kurt and Sam next to her. Kurt is as far away from his father as he can be, and it takes all he has not to punch him in the face right then and there. Blaine still isn’t 100% sure that Kurt’s dad is behind everything, and he’s convinced Kurt to act normal until they find more evidence. Thankfully Kurt acting normally _is_ hating his father, so at least he doesn’t have to pretend too much.

Once they reach the entrance to the room the wedding is being held in, they get into formation. Santana’s party is walking first. Marley’s wedding party is nowhere to be found, so Kurt assumes that Marley and Santana have decided to abide by the tradition of not seeing each other before the wedding, even if the wedding isn’t real. He supposes even fake marriages need good luck.

Sam walks down the aisle first, and Kurt follows him. Neither have flowers, and he feels a little silly. He doesn’t really know what to do with his arms, and he keeps catching the eye of somebody he doesn’t like. Distant relatives he hasn’t spoken to in years, family friends who’ve openly condemned his ‘lifestyle’, people who have told Burt right in front of him that he needs to have better control over his son. He didn’t realize there would be so many people he didn’t get along with here.

He doesn’t see Kitty until he’s standing at the front of the large room. Santana is walking up the aisle, and Kitty reaches a hand out to Santana and Santana squeezes it.

Kurt seethes.

Kitty leans toward her mother (that bitch, and she’d given _him_ shit for missing work for the wedding) and whispers something. Kurt hates that she’s here. Hates that his father’s mistress is in the same room as his father’s wife, that she’s at this family event. He wants to run back down the aisle and strangle her.

Marley’s party starts walking down the aisle, but Kurt barely notices. He keeps his eye on Kitty, glaring as hard as he can. She doesn’t seem to notice. She’s turned in her seat to watch Marley walk in. A soft smile spreads over her face, though there’s something behind it that Kurt can’t quite place.

He hadn’t even realized that Kitty and Marley knew each other.

The ceremony begins, and it’s nice and simple. Santana promised it would be, claiming that as the reason for not having a rehearsal dinner. Their mother tried her best to convince her otherwise, but Santana and Marley wouldn’t hear it. Kurt supposes getting fake married once is enough. No need to make it more painful than it needs to be.

Kurt tries to pay attention to the brides, to the ceremony, but he can’t stop staring at fucking Kitty. She’s biting her bottom lip and her hands and she’s wringing her hands together. She glances to the side and Kurt follows her eye, anger filling him when he sees she’s turned to look at his father. His father is looking back, and he mouths something to her. Kurt thinks he says ‘it’s okay’ but he could be wrong.

It’s okay. Yeah, of course it’s fucking okay. They just murdered his step-son, who he viewed (or at least claimed to) as his actual son.  They just tried to murder Rachel and were probably planning to murder him. All good, all okay.

Fuck, Kurt’s angry.

He doesn’t want to be. He knows it’s Santana’s wedding and he needs to focus on the joy of marriage, or whatever. But fuck is he angry.

He looks away from Kitty and his dad, chancing a glance to the back of the room. Blaine is standing against a wall, wearing a nice suit. Classy, but still not wedding fancy. He looks incredible.

Kurt tries to catch Blaine’s eye, but Blaine seems to have his eye on Kitty too. His brow is furrowed and his lips are pursed, as though he’s trying to find the missing piece of their puzzle. Kurt doesn’t think there is one, thinks Blaine is giving his dad too much credit, but that doesn’t matter. Blaine is the police, not Kurt.

He looks good though. Regardless of his reluctance to make an arrest, regardless of his hesitance when it came to the Hummel family being involved in Finn’s murder and Rachel’s attempted murder. He’s still gorgeous, and Kurt still wishes that he’d attended this wedding as his boyfriend and not a detective.

Beggars can’t be choosers though. At least Blaine is here. It relaxes Kurt a little to know that Blaine is here. Even his dad isn’t dumb enough to attack him with a cop in the room.

“Now,” the officiant says, louder than her previous words, drawing Kurt back to the ceremony. “If anybody has any reason that this couple should not marry speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Kurt looks up at Santana. She swallows nervously and smiles, so fake he can’t believe anybody is buying it. Marley is looking down at her feet. Kurt glances out at the crowd and finds Quinn. She’s looking down at her nails. Kurt is surprised she came at all.

It feels like the officiant waits far too long, but finally she says. “Well, since there are no objections-”

“I’m sorry I object,” someone says, and Kurt turns his eyes back to the front of the room, lips parting in shock. That wasn’t Santana’s voice, and it wasn’t Quinn.

It was Marley.

She still has her eyes on the ground, and her hands are trembling, making her bouquet shake.

“I’m sorry?” the officiant asks.

Marley takes a deep breath and looks up, ignoring Santana and eyes going straight to the officiant. “I object to this marriage.”

“Marley,” Santana hisses. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “No, I have to. I’m sorry Santana,” her eyes glisten and a tear falls down her cheek. “I love you. You know I love you,” she reaches a hand out and takes Santana’s. “But we both know it’s not enough.”

“It can be,” Santana whispers. “It’s been enough for the past ten years, it can still be enough.”

“It’s never been enough and you know it,” she says. “But what I have with her…” she looks out into the crowd, smiling through her tears. “It’s perfect with her.”

Kurt looks out into the crowd as well, confusion filling him at the sight of Kitty, tears streaming down her face. She has a hand in front of her mouth, but Kurt can see that she’s smiling behind it.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Marley says, louder now, for everybody to hear. “I can’t marry you knowing it will never be enough. I can’t marry you knowing I could have everything with her. I’m sorry.”

She nods to the officiant, then turns on her heel and starts to march right back down the aisle. She stops in front of Kitty and holds her hand out to her. Kitty laughs, the only sound in the room, full of joy. She takes Marley’s hand and together they walk down the aisle and out the door.

Kurt has never been more confused in his life.

He looks over to Santana, who looks both shocked and relieved. He looks at the officiant, who just looks confused. He looks at Blaine, who is staring at the door Marley and Kitty have just gone through, obviously deep in thought. He looks at his boss, who has tears in her eyes and is smiling, obviously incredibly happy for her daughter. He looks at his own father who is also smiling, whispering something to Carole, who is smiling as well.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam asks, summarizing everything that Kurt is currently feeling.

Santana takes a deep breath and smiles. “Marley followed her heart,” she turns to the officiant and says, “I’m sorry, but it looks like this wedding has been cancelled.”

The officiant doesn’t seem to have the words to respond, instead standing in front of them all, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Santana then turns to her guests and says, “The wedding has been cancelled. Thank you all for coming all of this way.”

With that she picks up the skirt of her dress and begins making her way down the aisle. Kurt and Sam hurry to follow her, and Kurt sees his mom stand up, confusion clouding her face. Kurt shakes his head at her. He and Sam need to deal with this one.

They follow her back to the room they were in before the wedding. Santana falls into a chair, stares into space for a moment, then bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god,” she says, throwing her head back. “Marley just stood me up at the altar.”

Kurt and Sam share a concerned glance, and Kurt walks closer to Santana, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know this marriage wasn’t real, but I know it must still be a shock to learn that-”

“That what?” Santana laughs some more. “That Marley was dating Kitty? Please, they’ve been together for almost as long as Marley and I have. I’m honestly surprised Marley waited this long to finally leave me for her.”

Kurt’s heart jumps in his chest. “What – I don’t –”

Santana just keeps laughing. “Your face right now,” tears are starting to fall down her cheeks. “It’s so great. You’re so confused. I love it.”

“Um, hello,” Sam puts a hand up. “I’m confused, too. How the hell do Marley and Kitty even know each other?”

“Kurt, obviously,” she says, extending a hand in Kurt’s direction. “Marley was over one day at the same time Kitty was. They hit it off.”

Kurt doesn’t remember that at all. “But… but that must have been…”

“Nine, ten years ago I think?” Santana wipes a tear from her eye. “Yeah, they’ve really been through it all.”

“I just don’t-” Kurt takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand. Is Kitty bi?”

Santana laughs some more. “Nope. Gay as the fourth of July, that one.”

“I – For how long?!”

“Um, forever?” Santana laughs again. “She never came out, always thought it would ruin her future career as a lawyer or whatever,” she wipes a tear from her eye. “Guess that’s out the window now, huh?”

“How the hell did I not know this?!” Kurt shouts, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Uh, you cut Kitty out of your life like, eight years ago, and you refuse to speak of her? She literally only told her closest friends and family, why the hell would she tell you?”

“Maybe because I thought she was fucking my dad and if somebody how fucking _told me –_ ”

“Like you would have believed it,” Santana says, no longer laughing, but her eyes still sparkling and her lips still spread wide. “You were so convinced that dad was fucking her you wouldn’t hear anything of the opposite.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Sam puts a hand up. “Pause, time out,” he points at Kurt. “You thought Uncle Burt was fucking your best friend?” His lips part in shock and his eyes widen. “Holy shit, _that’s_ why you slept with her dad.”

“Yeah, apparently for no reason,” Kurt says, lips pursed as he tries to wrap his mind around this new information. “Okay, but if Kitty is a lesbian and has been dating Marley since she was sixteen or seventeen then why the fuck was she at our house that night? Why was she there when I was out? Why were her and my dad… embracing, or whatever.”

Santana laughs again. “God, you’re really stupid.”

“Um, fuck you.”

“No, for real. You’re so dumb. I literally figured it out the day you told me you saw them together. But you’re just so freaking stupid…” she trailed off, bursting into more laughter.

“Okay, seriously Santana, I know you just got stood up or whatever, but fuck off.”

“Think about it,” Santana says, leaning forward. “Really seriously think about it. Think about why Kitty might have been hanging out with dad. What possible reason could she have for doing that?”

She stares at him, as though that’s going to make it obvious. Kurt just stares back at her blankly. He literally cannot think of a single reason for that.

“Jesus Christ,” she rolls her eyes, then looks at Sam. “You get it, don’t you?”

Sam shakes his head, and Kurt is relieved that he’s not the only one.

“Fucking idiots,” she says.

“But,” Kurt stops himself from saying anything more. He can’t say it, not in front of Santana. She’d kill him for even thinking it.

“But what?” she asks.

Kurt purses his lips. But _if Kitty and dad aren’t fucking then what motive could they have for killing Finn. If Kitty and dad aren’t fucking then why would they attack Rachel. If Kitty and dad aren’t fucking why would they… why would they…_

“But nothing,” Kurt says, mind whirring. “I’m just – I’m really shocked by all of this.”

“Obviously,” Santana cackles. “So, do you think I’ll appear as the victim when all of this leaks to the press? Or will I be the horrible spoiled brat who drove her fiancée to cheat?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Kurt asks. “You’re thinking about the damn press?”

“Yeah. I can already see the headline on that stupid website – _Hummel heiress left at the altar; a tragedy, or a clue? Santana Lopez revealed to be as terrible as people believe_.”

“That’s not nearly pithy enough for them,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Seriously Santana, there’s way more important things to worry about right now. Like, you know, the person out there trying to kill us?”

She blinks at him, laughter stopping in her throat. “Jesus,” she says. “I’d totally forgotten about that. Way to kill the mood Kurt.”

Kurt’s jaw opens, ready to defend himself, to say he can’t believe she forgot, when there’s a knock on the door. All three of them turn around and Kurt is surprised to find Terri fucking Del Monico standing on the other side.

“Hey there,” she says, eyes still a little red from her earlier crying. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I really need to speak to Kurt about some work things.”

“Really?” Kurt asks. “My sister just got dumped at the altar – for your daughter, by the way – and you want to talk to me about work?”

Terri shrugs, looking just as full of it as ever. Kurt has never hated his stupid boss more. “It’ll only be a minute.”

He groans and tells Santana and Sam that he’ll be right back, following Terri out of the room.

“What do you want?”

“Not here,” she says. “It’s kind of a sensitive issue.”

Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is this about the video I gave you? Did the police get back to you on it yet? Blaine hasn’t told me anything, so-”

“Blaine?” she rolls her eyes. “Right, I forgot you were that cops little lap dog. No, this isn’t about that, but it is about a security issue within the building.”

“Why do you need me for that?” Kurt asks, already exasperated by all this. “I’m just your assistant. I don’t know even a fifth of what you do about security.”

“Trust me, this concerns you very much,” she says. She ushers him into an empty room. Kurt walks in first, although he’s tempted to just turn around and walk away. He doesn’t have time for this. He has to be there for Santana. He has to talk to Blaine. He has to –

He just has shit to do.

 The door clicks shut behind them. Then a lock turns. Kurt frowns. “Did you just lock the door?” he asks, turning around.

His blood instantly turns cold as he sees Terri, her back against the door, a smirk on her face, and gun pointed directly at his head.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“Shut up,” she replies, cocking the gun. Kurt’s heart sinks in terror. “The other two wouldn’t shut the fuck up, so I need you to just _shut up_.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt takes a step back and she follows him, turning the gun a little so it’s even more centered on his head. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my-”

“I just said shut up,” she shrieks.

_She has a gun. She has a gun and she’s going to shoot me. She’s going to shoot me – why the hell is she going to shoot me?!_

“Look,” Kurt put his hands up near his head. “Look, I know you’re mad I missed a bunch of work, but this is not-”

“Jesus Christ, you _are_ dumb,” she says, rolling her eyes. She takes another step forward and Kurt takes another step back. “You know I heard Kitty complaining about how fucking stupid you are, but I never really realized till right now.”

She’s insulting him. She’s holding a gun to his head and she’s insulting him. He’s going to die. He’s fucking going to die, just like Finn, just like –

Just like Finn.

“It was you,” he whispers, heart practically beating out of his chest. “You killed Finn. You attacked Rachel. Holy shit. Holy _shit_.”

“Yes, it was me, I did it, surprise!” she waves the gun around, as though it’s an extension of her hand. It’s like she doesn’t even realize she’s holding it. “Now, I said shut up.”

“ _Why_?” Kurt asks, mind whirring. Why the fuck, why the _fuck_ -?

“Because your stupid high pitched voice annoys the shit out of me, and I’m trying to hear if there’s people outside.”

“No – why did you kill Finn? Why did you try to kill Rachel? Why are you pointing a fucking gun at my head?”

“You don’t seem very scared,” she says, lowering the gun so that it’s pointed at his leg. “Am I not threatening enough? Do you think I won’t do it?”

She pulls the trigger and pain erupts in his left thigh. His legs give out under him and his hands instantly go to his thigh. It feels like the bullet has gone right through his leg. He screams in agony and she rushes up to him and presses the gun to his temple and a hand to his mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut the fuck up?” she mutters. She holds her hand over his mouth and he whimpers in agony, pain unlike any other rushing through his body. He’s pressing his hand down on the wound, the big, round, gaping wound in his thigh where his boss fucking _shot him_.

He can’t hear anything higher than his own pitiful whimpers and Terri’s tongue clucking occasionally.

She grins. “Looks like nobody’s around, eh baby Hummel?”

She takes her hand away and he cries out. “Please,” he says. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I fucking have to do this,” she says, standing up and stepping away from him. “I’ve had to do this for years, but I never built up the courage to. Killing my husband was hard enough – killing a bunch of fucking kids? My daughter’s best friend?”

“You – you killed Adam.”

“Duh,” she says, eyes slightly manic. “I was fucking careless about it too. It was all very spur of the moment. I’m surprised nobody ever caught me.”

“They thought it was a suicide. They thought he-”

“Drank himself to death on purpose, yes,” she rolls her eyes.

“That’s why you made it look like Finn and Rachel were suicides. Because you knew-”

“Will you stop telling me things I already know? I can’t fucking aim with you blabbering at me.”

“ _Why_ Terri? Why the hell would you do this? What did our family ever do to you?”

She stares at him, wide eyed. “What did your – Ha!” her laughter sounds like a scream. “What did you family ever do to me? You mean other than leave me in the fucking ruin? Other than make me marry some in the closet asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, even around seventeen year old fucking kids? Other than screw over the only good thing that ever happened to me? Other than attempt to screw her over over and over and over again? What did your family ever do to me?!”

He can’t think with the pain in his leg, can’t think beyond _gungungun_ and _painpainpain_. 

“Your family,” she says, crouching down so that their eyes are level, “Owed me everything and gave me nothing.”

He can’t see the gun, but he feels it, now pressed against his stomach through his dress shirt.

“Meanwhile you,” she says, pushing the gun further into his stomach. “You throw your money away on booze and boys, as though it means nothing. That stupid actress cousin of yours wastes her inheritance away on frivolity. Your sister just spent untold millions on a wedding that didn’t even take place. Honestly, that boy Sam is the only one of you who seems to realize what kind of blessing he’s been given.”

“Terri,” Kurt wheezes. “Please, don’t-”

She doesn’t seem to hear him. “And that idiot Finn Hudson,” she clucks her tongue. “He could have ruined everything. He and Rachel would have ruined it all before I even had the chance to fix it. Thank god I chose to silence them both first, huh?”

Kurt shouts in pain, hand pressed desperately against his leg. He feels the gun pressed deeper against his stomach and then –

Then more pain. Everything is pain. It’s as though a giant hole has been ripped through him, and Kurt falls over on his side, vomit and blood climbing up his throat and erupting all over the floor and his face. His throat burns, but it’s nothing in comparison to the pain he feels in his leg and in his stomach.

“Now you,” she says, her heels coming into his line of sight. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass for years,” she kneels down again, but Kurt still can’t see her face. “Why did you get it all and Kitty got nothing? How come your little fame whore of a mother managed to sneak you into the Hummel inheritance but _my_ daughter got nothing?”

If she expects a reply she doesn’t get one. Only Kurt throwing up a little more, a splash of it almost hitting her shoes.

“Don’t even get me started on Finn and Santana,” she says, standing up and walking away. Kurt clenches his eyes shut, as though that will dull the pain. “They don’t have a lick of Hummel blood in them, but even they get to be called Heir and Heiress. What was so special about them? Why did your fucking father toss me and my child aside, like I was some common slut, and then jump through thousands of hoops for children that weren’t even his?

“Well, that’s all done now. Once you’re gone, I’ll kill Santana and Sam, and I’ll get Rachel as soon as she’s up and running. No more heirs and heiresses anymore, what a tragedy! But then – oh, what do you know. A few years pass, a couple of DNA samples are leaked to the police and, would you look at that! Brand new spanking Hummel heiress! And with no more cousins and siblings standing in her way, everything will go to her. She’ll get everything she should have always had.”

“Don’t,” Kurt tries, but that’s all he manages before he’s leaning over and coughing up a large mouthful of blood. One hand is clutched to his stomach while the other is holding his leg. He feels faint.

“Don’t? Oh honey, who’s going to stop me?” she chuckles. “That useless little boyfriend of yours? Fresh out of the police academy and already handling a high profile case like the Hummel murders, how promising. Except,” she sounds closer, but Kurt’s eyes feel as though they’ve been glued shut. “He couldn’t do it, now could he? He couldn’t figure out who it was. He was too busy fucking around with you to actually see the big picture.”

“You won’t-” Kurt coughs, but thankfully doesn’t throw up any more. “You won’t get away with this.”

“I honestly can’t see how I could not get away with this,” she says, chuckling.

“They’ll know I didn’t do it to myself,” he says. “Santana and Sam saw you. They’ll say it was you.”

“I don’t really care if they do or don’t think you committed suicide. Everybody knows the Hummel’s are getting murdered, there’s no need to play pretend anymore.” She sighs. “Sam and Santana only saw me asking to see you for work. After I spoke to you I instantly left the premises, wanting to meet up with my daughter and congratulate her. Seeing as that is what I will be doing as soon as I’m finished with you, I can’t see how they will suspect any differently.”

“Blaine’s smart,” Kurt spits. “He’ll know it was you. He’ll figure it all out – he’ll realize why you’re doing this and he’ll arrest you.”

“Now, how is he going to figure out why I’m doing this? Are you going to tell him?” she hums. “Oh, wait. No, you’ll be dead.”

There’s another gun shot and Kurt finally blacks out.

**June 27, 2015**

The first thing Kurt hears is “I think he’s waking up.”

His eyes flutter open slowly, then close again immediately after. Wherever he is is bright. Too bright. Heaven, perhaps?

“Oh thank god,” a woman’s voice says. It sounds watery, like she’s been crying. She sounds familiar, but Kurt can’t seem to place her.

“Kurt?” this voice isn’t familiar, though still female. It’s rougher than the first. Less compassionate. “Kurt, if you can hear me, open your eyes.

Kurt shakes his head minutely, and is glad to note that the action does not cause him any pain. “Bright,” he croaks.

“He’s alive,” a familiar male voice this time, hard and rough. “Carole, he’s alive.”

“He’s alive,” the familiar female voice replies, and Kurt squints one eye open, fighting against the brightness of the room.

Carole and his dad are standing behind a woman in a white coat he doesn’t recognize. His dad is holding Carole, who has her face pressed to his chest, shoulders heaving.

“Hello, Kurt,” the woman in the white coat says, giving him a smile that doesn’t look a bit sincere. “Can you tell me where you are?”

“Uh,” he glances around the room and makes an educated guess. “Hospital?”

“Alright, we’re off to a good start,” she says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Was the wedding today or yesterday?”

“Yesterday,” his dad provides. Kurt doesn’t look his way. He isn’t ready to deal with that yet.

“Then it’s June 27th.”

“Great, you’re doing a great job.” She makes a few notes on her clipboard.

“Look,” Kurt sits up, wincing as pain shoots through his body. “Where’s Blaine? I need to talk to Blaine.”

“You’ll be able to see your boyfriend soon. Now, can you tell me what happened to you yesterday?”

“Yeah, I was shot by a psycho killer, which is why I need to talk to Blaine. Not because he’s my boyfriend, but because he’s a _cop_.”

His dad clears his throat. “Terri’s already been arrested, Kurt.”

Kurt turns to look at him, eyes wide. “She has?” he asks, throat hoarse. His dad nods.

“Why else would you be here and not six feet under?” he asks, holding Carole closer as she once again bursts into tears.

Kurt’s throat dries and he looks away, tears stinging at his eyes. “I’m here because I was shot,” he tells the doctor.

“Three times,” the doctor says. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Kurt nods. “I know,” he says. “Can you… how _am_ I alive? Terri locked the door. I passed out. I thought I was dead.”

“Turns out Terri wasn’t a very good shot,” his dad says, and Kurt closes his eyes, as if that will block him out. He really wishes his dad and Carole weren’t here right now. He’s already feeling beyond overwhelmed about everything that happened, everything he discovered. The last thing he needs is to be bogged down by guilt. “And you were incredibly lucky.”

“Very, very lucky,” the doctor says. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave while I go through some more tests.”

Kurt’s heart feels lighter as his dad and Carole leave the room. His dad turns around to look at him as he walks out of the door, and Kurt has to fight not to cry.

**

He must have fallen asleep while the doctor’s ran more tests, because the next thing he remembers is waking up blearily to the sight of his once best friend standing over him, arms crossed over her chest, looking like she’s about to burst into tears.

“Hey, sis,” Kurt says, giving her the most genuine smile his muscles will allow.

She shakes her head and a couple of tears slip down her cheeks. “Hey, bro,” she says, rolling her eyes. Kurt chuckles despite the pain it causes him.

Neither speaks for what feels like hours, Kitty silently crying over him and Kurt pursing his lips, trying to think of what to say. There’s… there’s so much he wants to say. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

All he can think of to say is. “I should have listened to you.”

Kitty shakes her head. “No, Kurt –”

“I should have,” he insists. “You both tried to tell me that you weren’t… God, the thought of it seems so gross now.”

She laughs through her tears. “I know.”

“I’m really sorry. I ruined our friendship over a dumbass assumption and that… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m sorry.”

He reaches a hand out and she takes it. “I’m sorry my mom tried to murder you.”

He can’t help it. He laughs. He laughs and laughs, and she laughs with him.

“God this is so fucked up,” he says.

“It really is,” she says, sitting down in the chair next to his bed, her free hand going to her eyes to wipe her tears.

Kurt squeezes her hand. “When did you find out?” he asks.

Kitty raises an eyebrow. “That my mom was trying to murder you guys or that your dad was also my dad?”

“Well I meant the latter, but now that you mention it…”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t know. I swear to god I didn’t know. I – When I saw her with that gun, and you were bleeding out on the floor… I can’t even begin to describe it,” she looks down at their hands. “I just can’t believe she would do that, you know? And for what? Fucking inheritance money?” she shakes her head again, eyes closing tightly.

Kurt’s eyes widen. “You were there?”

Kitty nods, face pinched in confusion. “They didn’t tell you?” she asks, and he shakes his head. “My mom, she texted me that she’d meet Marley and me outside the venue in a few minutes. She was taking a while, so I went in to see if I could find her. I heard the shots.”

Kurt’s throat dries. “You saved my life.”

She shakes her head. “No, Kurt, I – my fucking _mom_ , Jesus Christ, she –”

He squeezes her hand tightly. “You saved my life.”

She smiles, though she still looks like she wants to protest. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Kurt shakes her hand a little. “What about the second question?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

She takes a deep breath and stares at him, eyes watery. “It wasn’t that long before you caught us hugging,” she says. “I was doing some math in my head when I was sixteen and realized that the dates between my parents wedding and my birth didn’t really add up. I just assumed I was conceived out of wedlock – I mean, it would explain why they got married so suddenly. So I asked my mom and she just – she flipped. Started freaking out, asking how I’d found out, telling me I couldn’t tell anyone,” she purses her lips. “I got the whole story out of her, about how she met your dad through Adam, how things just… happened,” she’s crying again. “I was so angry at her Kurt,” she says. “I couldn’t believe she did that. Broke up your parents’ marriage, and only like, a month after you were born…

“I was mad at Dad too. For doing that to your mom. For doing that to my mom. I went over one day when I knew you weren’t around to give him a piece of my mind and we just… got talking. He said he wanted a relationship with me. That he’d wanted to tell me for so long but my mom refused,” she swallows thickly. “I wanted to tell you, but they convinced me not to. They said you’d react badly, that you’d take your mom’s side. I never expected… We should have told you. _I_ should have told you.”

“I should have listened,” Kurt says. “I was a stubborn asshole, Kitty. I should have known you wouldn’t do that – you were my _best friend_. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. We could have avoided so much drama,” he rolls his eyes. “God, we could have known it was Terri so much sooner. I was so caught up thinking it was you that I didn’t even _think –_ and you fucking saved my life, god, I’m such a _dick_.”

“Me?” Kitty asks, eyebrows shooting up. “You thought it was _me_?!”

Kurt shrugs. “I saw these videos of you fighting with Finn and Rachel the day before Finn was murdered,” he says. “And then the day he was murdered you showed up on the cameras. Well, obviously it wasn’t you, just your mom dressed like you, but. I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

Kitty shakes her head. “Un-fucking-believable.” Kurt winces, already forming more apologies in his head, but she continues. “So she says she did this all for me, but she dressed up as me to commit the murder? Un-fucking-believable.”

“I’m sorry I thought it was you,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Of course you thought it was me, that’s what she _wanted_ you to think. I can’t believe – fuck, I can’t believe she – _fuck_.”

Kurt gives her a tight smile. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, though.”

She takes a deep breath, still shaking her head. “I need to… I’m sorry, Kurt, I want to keep talking to you but I think I need to just… be alone right now. I’m really sorry, and I hope you feel better, but I just can’t be here.”

“I understand,” he says, squeezing her hand. “I’ll text you, or something. When I get out of here. We can get coffee, catch up?”

“I would like that,” she says, her voice genuine despite the tightness of her smile.

She leaves immediately after that, and Kurt lays back in the bed. He’s starting to feel better already.

**

It isn’t long after Kitty leaves that the door to his room opens again, and finally Blaine is standing before him. He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in days, and he’s still in his outfit from the wedding, suit crumpled and hair a mess.

“Hey,” Kurt croaks, doing his best to smile.

“God, Kurt,” Blaine’s eyes water as he moves toward him. Kurt tries to sit up, wanting to be closer sooner. “No, don’t move. You’re hurt.”

“I just got shot three times,” Kurt says, continuing to sit up. “No big deal. Happens all the time.”

“You could have _died_ , Kurt,” Blaine says, a tear running down his cheek. “If Kitty hadn’t gone back – I don’t even want to think about it.”

“I didn’t though,” he says, squeezing Blaine’s hand as soon as Blaine sits down. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Blaine barks out a laugh. “How can you be making jokes? You got shot _three times_ Kurt.”

“And my sister saved me,” he says, eyes softening. “Kitty, not Santana. She’s my sister.”

Blaine nods. “I know,” he admits. “I’m the detective in charge of this case, remember?”

Kurt chuckles at that. “So you know everything about everything then, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then I guess you know how fucking mad I am at you for taking this long to come to see me?”

Blaine smiles, obviously not willing to engage in a mock-fight. “I’ve been here the whole time,” he says. “Apart from when I took Terri to the police precinct I haven’t left this hospital. My commander actually got really pissed because I insisted I take everybody’s statements here. It’s been a real hassle, you know.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” Kurt says. Blaine cups both hands around Kurt’s and brings them up to his lips for a kiss.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re not dead Kurt,” he whispers.

Kurt’s heart warms as he says, “Yeah. Me, too.”

**

Blaine is asked to leave at eight, as visiting hours are over. Kurt wants him to stay, but rules are rules.

Or maybe not so much, seeing as about five minutes after Blaine leaves his dad walks in.

“I thought visiting hours were over,” Kurt says without thinking, then winces. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… sorry.”

His dad shrugs. “I get it,” his hands go to his pockets. He’s still wearing his suit from the wedding. “You’ve had a stressful day,” he sits down in the chair next to Kurt’s bed. “I asked them if I could talk to you for a bit. Turns out there’s a few perks to being the CEO of Hummel Enterprises after all.”

“Who knew,” Kurt jokes, but it falls flat. He looks away from his dad.

His dad clears his throat. “Look, I think we should talk about-”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt blurts. He presses his lips together, and feels tears welling up in his eyes.

“You’re sorry?” Burt asks. “Why the hell are you sorry for?”

Kurt blinks and a tear escapes. “The way I’ve treated you… the things I’ve said, to you and to Kitty… God, I’ve been horrible to both of you.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Because I wouldn’t listen,” he shakes his head. “I was too damn stubborn and I almost…” another tear falls down his cheeks. “I almost died without telling you how fucking sorry I am.”

“Don’t,” his dad says. “Don’t even say that. I can’t believe…” he buries his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. “This is all my fault.”

“What? No, dad, this isn’t your fault.”

“It is,” he says. “If I had just… If I hadn’t been such a coward. If I’d just told my parents about Kitty, asked them to put her in the damn will like Terri wanted me to. God, if I’d just… Finn might...” he’s crying now, and Kurt doesn’t know what to do.

“It’s not your fault,” Kurt repeats. “You couldn’t have known that Terri would do this. You couldn’t have known she would… This isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe,” his dad says, not looking up. “But I could have prevented it. I could have come clean about what I’d done. I could have convinced my parents to make Kitty and heiress. I could have kept it in my damn pants instead of screwing around on your mom,” he shakes his head. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“Dad,” Burt doesn’t look up, so Kurt repeats, harder this time. “ _Dad_.” He looks up. “Listen to me. This is not your fault. This is Terri’s fault. Everything that happened is because of Terri. You didn’t do any of this. This isn’t your fault.”

His dad shakes his head, tears streaming down his face, and chuckles. “If you had told me that _you_ , of all people, would be comforting me after all this…”

Kurt smiles, looking down. “Yeah. Who would have thought, huh?”

“I really am sorry you had to find out about everything this way,” his dad says. “I would have preferred… well, I would have preferred if you hadn’t almost died when you found out.”

“You know, me too.”

His dad laughs, and Kurt laughs too.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

**June 30, 2015**

In a surprising turn of events, Kurt and Rachel end up being released from the hospital on the same day. He hasn’t been to see Rachel since he was admitted to the hospital, and he has to admit that he cries a little bit when he sees her at the front desk, signing her release papers.

They embrace, right there in the hospital lobby, crying like babies and telling each other how happy they are that the other is alive. Kurt notices the receptionist taking out her phone and snapping a picture of them, but for once he doesn’t care. Let the world know that he was ecstatic to be reunited with his cousin.

Santana and Sam are waiting for them by the front door of the hospital, a town car parked behind them. They all climb in, and when the driver asks where they want to go, Rachel surprises them all by giving him the direction of the cemetery Finn was buried in.

“I haven’t really said goodbye,” she says at their inquiring looks. “I would really like to. If that’s okay.”

Kurt takes her hand and squeezes it, giving her the most encouraging smile he can. Santana takes her other hand, and Sam reaches out and squeezes her knee. She gives them all a small, tight smile, but she looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

**

The cemetery is mostly empty, thank god. The driver drops them off right next to his tombstone and then parks a little bit down the way to afford them some privacy. Kurt is eternally grateful for it.

They walk up to the grave together, Kurt arm in arm with Rachel, Santana clutching Sam’s hand like a lifeline. He feels like it’s all been leading up to this moment, the four of them together, gathered around Finn’s grave, prepared to say their last goodbyes.

For a while nobody speaks. They stand in silence, staring at the slab of rock that’s immortalized Finn. There’s nothing special about it, nothing fancy. Just a square piece of marble with the words _Finn Hudson, loved by all, 1985-2015 **.**_ It’s just what Finn would have wanted.

Rachel is the one who breaks the silence, voice cracking as she says. “I love you.”

Kurt doesn’t turn to look at her, already feeling as though he’s intruding on a personal moment.

“I love you,” Rachel repeats. “I never told you, but I love you. I’ve always loved you. Breaking up with you was the hardest, stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she’s crying now, stuttering as she speaks. “I always thought, maybe one day… But we won’t. One day will never come. You… You’re gone, and I never told you I love you.”

She can’t continue, instead leaning into Kurt to cry. He pulls her close and holds her, unable to say anything. He doesn’t think there’s anything any of them could say to make this better.

Nobody else says anything. It doesn’t seem right. They continue to stand in silence, Rachel sobbing quietly into Kurt’s shirt, until Rachel finally stands up straight and tells them that she’s ready to go.

It’s only once they’re all crowded in the back of the town car that Santana finally says, “He always knew you loved him.”

Rachel sniffles and says, “I hope so.”

“He did,” she assures. “I don’t… I don’t know if this will make things better or worse, but he…” she pauses, glancing at Kurt and Sam. “He was planning on divorcing Quinn. He had the papers drawn up and everything. He told us it was because he wanted me and Quinn to be together, Kitty and Marley as well, but I know he was secretly hoping you two would get together too.”

Kurt wants to jump up, shout, “So _that’s_ what was in the folder he gave Kitty!” but he stays quiet, watching as more tears spring to Rachel’s eyes.

Rachel sniffles and says, “You’re right. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” before bursting into a fresh round of tears.

Kurt doesn’t know what to say, and seeing as neither Sam nor Santana speak he assumes they don’t either. Instead they all sit in silence, quietly mourning.

**

The town car drops off Sam and Santana, and then heads to Kurt’s apartment. Neither of them speak during the ride, though the closer they get to his house the bigger the question building in Kurt’s mind becomes.

They stop in front of Kurt’s building, and Rachel begins to say goodbye just as Kurt says, “I have to ask you something.”

She frowns. “What is it?”

Kurt glances up at the driver. “Do you want to come in? You can sleep over. I don’t really think you should be alone tonight.”

She nods and they exit the vehicle, hurrying into Kurt’s building before the driver has time to drive away.

Once they’re safely alone behind Kurt’s apartment door Rachel asks, “What is it you had to ask me?”

“The day before Finn was murdered,” he says, the words weighing heavy on his tongue. “You went to Hummel Enterprises to talk to him.”

Rachel narrows her eyes. “How do you know that?”

“Terri had me look up surveillance footage. She said she was going to turn in whatever I found to the police. Obviously she never did, but while I was looking I found a video of you arguing with Finn and Kitty.” Rachel nods. “I guess I was just wondering what that was about.”

Rachel chews on her bottom lip. “Why do you want to know?”

Kurt sighs. “Curiosity? An annoying need to know absolutely everything? A burning desire to answer all unanswered questions?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel says. “You’re already on the outs with your dad, I don’t know if I want to make that worse.”

“My dad and I made up. Kind of.”

She chews on her bottom lip, “Then I don’t want to ruin a tentative relationship.”

Kurt groans, “Just tell me Rachel. What does this have to do with my dad?”

She deliberates for a few more minutes, then finally says, “It has to do with all of us, really. All us heirs and heiresses. It’s why my dad insisted on taking the last name Berry instead of hyphenating.”

“Okay? So what is it?”

She glances around, as though somebody is waiting to sneak out from behind her. “Well, you know how Hummel Enterprises originally started out as a diamond company? Before we sold that off and started buying into all other sorts of things?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “Hummel Diamonds. They kept the name even though we don’t own it anymore. What about it?”

She sighs. “They were stolen. The first diamonds we sold, what made us who we are. The Hummel who started this all… he stole thousands of incredibly rare diamonds and pretended to have discovered some amazing new mine that wielded nothing but the best. Everything we have is built on stolen money.”

Kurt feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. “Holy shit.”

Rachel nods. “I was so angry when my dads told me. Especially when I found out that Finn had known this whole time. That’s why I went to see him. That’s why we were fighting. He didn’t want me to tell anybody. Honestly, if he hadn’t… the next day…”

“Kitty knew too then?”

“She works in the legal department. I’d be surprised if there was anybody in there that didn’t know. They’re all very interested in keeping that quiet. After all, all of their fortunes have come from Hummel’s as well. Our family wouldn’t be the only one that would suffer if this came out.”

Kurt nods. It makes sense. Despite both of her parents working for Hummels Enterprises Kitty and her family weren’t as well off as most of the people in their social circles. He’s pretty sure if it weren’t for Hummels Kitty wouldn’t even be able to attend law school. No wonder she was so angry at the possibility of Rachel telling.

At the thought of her family something clicks in Kurt’s brain. “Adam knew.”

“Adam Crawford?”

Kurt nods. “He had to have known. He must have told Terri and then admitted he was going to tell people. That’s why she killed him. She didn’t want to jeopardize her daughters’ inheritance.”

“And she killed her own husband in order to ensure the secret stayed that way,” Rachel shakes her head. “That woman really is crazy.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

They fall into silence.

After a while Kurt asks. “Are you going to tell?”

Rachel shakes her head. “Finn didn’t want me to. I… even though it makes me sick to my stomach to think that all of what we had should have been somebody else’s… I want to honour him. He didn’t want anyone to know, so I’m not going to tell.”

“That’s very noble of you,” Kurt says, partially teasing. Rachel shrugs with a smile.

“That’s just the kind of person I am.”

Kurt laughs.

His phone buzzes and he grabs it from his pocket, smiling at the sight of Blaine’s name on the screen. He swipes and puts the phone to his ear.

“Hey you.”

“Hey,” Blaine says. “Just letting you know that we just escorted Terri to prison. Obviously she won’t be there for good until her trial, but I don’t think her chances of getting out are very high.”

“Good,” Kurt says.

“Also,” Blaine continues, “Kitty brought us Terri’s personal laptop and we found her logged in to that Hummel gossip rag website. She was the administrator. You were right; the website _was_ related.”

“I knew it,” Kurt says, suddenly feeling exhausted. “It makes sense, really. With all the suicide related murders she was committing, no wonder she wanted to propagate The Hummel Curse legend further.”

“It’s actually a lot more than that. She has files on her computer from all of you guys, files there’s no way she should have. Texts between you and your dad talking about Adam, romantic emails between Finn and Rachel as well as Rachel and her directors… She had you all bugged. It’s pretty messed up.”

“Yikes,” Kurt takes a deep breath. “But it’s over?”

“Looks like.”

He smiles. “Finally.”

“You’re telling me.”

Kurt glances at Rachel, who is frowning at him, obviously wanting to know what Blaine is telling him. “So now that your big case is all done do you think you’ll have some free time tomorrow to get some ice cream with your boyfriend? You know, since you weren’t even at the hospital today when he got discharged.”

“Santana told me not to come, she said she wanted some family time,” Blaine defends. “But yes, ice cream tomorrow sounds lovely. I’ll pick you up at noon?”

“Perfect,” Kurt says. “See you then.”

Blaine makes kissy sounds before hanging up and Kurt laughs, puts his phone down, and turns to Rachel to tell her what Blaine just told him.

It’s done. It’s all finally over.

For the first time in over a month he really feels like he can breathe.


End file.
